Half a Woman, Half a Shadow
by MindMaze75
Summary: My very first fanfic. Lauren goes to work, and finds herself trapped. She's been living dead for years, only now she has been given chance at being alive. But for how long? Rated T for most chapters. May change for some chapters. CHAPTER 23 IS UP!
1. Wash My Pain Away

Half a Woman, Half a Shadow

A SAW Fanfic

MindMaze75

Chapter 1. Wash My Pain Away

In the early morning hours driving in new fallen snow, Lauren wove through the streets of the city looking for the address of her new client. Her GPS squawked out the turn by turn directions leading her deeper into the abandoned warehouse district where politicians and developers had over the years promised to renovate into art studios, affordable housing and coffee shops. "Who the hell needs a dog walker in the middle of nothing?" she thought as the GPS voice had announced that "you have arrived".

"I've arrived all right. Arrived to a bogus address."

Earlier she had set up a free consultation with a man named Sam. Sam told her that he had a young terrier mix that needed to be exercised and fed three times a day. Lauren jumped at the chance to meet Sam as work had become slow due to people canceling what the felt were unnecessary expenses, like dog walkers and pet sitters, in favor of taking their dogs to work with them. The man gave her his address and requested to meet her the following evening to meet with he and his dog and see what could be worked out in terms of payment. Lauren made sure she brought her GPS with her. She was what she called "directionally challenged" when it came to driving.

Lauren got out of her car after scanning for baddies and sighed. Someone was playing a prank on her, probably took one of the cards she left at the local supermarket and decided that it would be funny to send her on a wild goose chase to a fake client. "Real funny!" she shouted, "Maybe next time you could at least send me to a neighborhood with electricity and running water!" She heard a dog bark. "Hello?" Maybe this wasn't a joke. "Oh come on Lauren," she said to herself, "Even if there is a dog, it's probably feral and besides, what homeless man could want or even afford a dog walker?" It barked a few more times, this time she noticed that it was coming from the building she was given the address to.

After retrieving her mag light from her car for protection as well as illumination, she creaked open the unlocked door. Shining her light, searching for the mysterious dog she called out. "Hello? C'mere boy!" Lauren always shad a supply of "bribes" for her clients dogs to help break the ice and to encourage sitter acceptance. Taking out her plastic baggie of lean turkey, she called out again. "Here boy, are you hungry? If you are, I have something you might like!" Before she could call out again, she felt someone come upon her from behind, a sharp pain in her neck and then nothing.

Slowly regaining consciousness, her eyes were still closed. There was a little noise from her throat that was feeling dry and sore. Lauren inhaled deeply and in doing so sent herself into a coughing fit. Thick clouds of dust hung in the air shone only by a lone light bulb crackling to life from a wire on the ceiling. She was sitting in a metal chair; her head felt heavy from the drugs and her neck was itchy. Her eyes adjusted to the light, or lack thereof, and she realized that she was stuck. Her wrists were taped to the arms of the chair; her neck was wrapped in rope, the rope hung from one of the rafters. "Oh my god!" she thought, "Someone is trying to kill me!" Refusing to holler out for fear of bring the person or people out of the shadows that intended to do her harm. Looking around she saw the clock that was set for sixty seconds.

Lauren decided first to free her wrists from the arms of her chair. Yanking and pulling for what felt like an hour, she was free. Standing and taking a step away from the chair, she heard a **clink** and found she was also wearing a collar. Lauren turned just in time to see the line that was attached to the collar drop away from her. An old black and white television snapped alive with white noise and she whipped around to look at it. Shaking and anticipating some answers tears slowly ran down her face.

Now there was something that she hadn't done in a while. Cry. She had been living the last four years in an emotionless fog that protected her heart from being destroyed. Her ex boyfriend had abused her in every way a person can be. Like all relationships, he was a perfect gentleman. Everyone commented about what a fantastic couple they were. How they never knew he had teeth because before her, he had never smiled. Six months in, things began to change. He demanded things of her that weren't just out of the ordinary, but things that violated her principles and her sense of decency. He threatened her repeatedly, made her sob and ask him for forgiveness for what she had done. Lauren didn't want him to take his love away. Anything but that. So she gave in to whatever he wanted, whenever he demanded it. He called her a liar, a rat, a slut and a bitch that was not deserving of love, not even of pity. The last day, he put his hands around her throat and squeezed. His 300-pound frame against her 150-pound body made her panic as he ripped a necklace from around her neck and forced her out without shoes, without a cell phone and without her wallet. From then on, she swore that she would never, ever let anything like that happen to her again. She knew she deserved better and dam it if she was even going to entertain the idea of being with anyone, never mind a relationship with actual feelings involved again.

There she stood letting the tears wash over her for the first time since it happened. Here in this dimly lit room, rope and dog collar around her neck, sobbing like a child. The white noise ceased and the face of a puppet from hell appeared, and it was talking to her.

"Hello Lauren. We have never been properly introduced but I know you. I know you very well. I know that you are more than just a businesswoman scratching out a living in the animal care industry. The meager existence that you sleep through day after day is not one of importance. You let all of the life inside of you die as you repaired what's become your existence. You exist. But you do not live. This evening, you will live, but only if you really want to. As I'm sure you've noticed, there is a noose hanging from around your neck tied to a beam above you. There is also a dog collar around your neck; an irony that I'm sure is not lost on you. The collar is harmless I assure you. The floor however will drop away from your feet falling into the room below. You have sixty seconds from the end of this message to find the key to unlock the collar, which will keep the floor in its place. Remember, sometimes you have to just get through the crap to find freedom. Let the game begin"

The clock began its countdown and Lauren was in full panic attack. "What the fuck is wrong with you? What kind of diseased mind.." She stopped screaming and sniffed the air. There was shit in this room. Not manure like one used for gardening, but actual shit. She hadn't noticed this before. Gallon buckets of shit were all over the room. "Get through the crap" she thought. She dashed over to one of the buckets only to be flung back by the rope around her neck the noose tightening. How was she supposed to look for the key of she couldn't quite reach it? With forty seconds left she slowly walked over to a bucket, letting the rope squeeze round her neck, choking her while she reached it and grabbed it with her fingertips. Picking it up she plunged her hand into the bucket of shit and maggots squishing it through her fingers. Poop was in her line of work, but not without the blessed sanitation gloves! Finding nothing, she walked over to another bucket. Trying not to black out from the compression of the major arteries in her neck, she searched for the key. Nothing. Thirty seconds left, she had to pick up the pace or it was curtains for her. She took two at a time and was elbow deep in this guck and was finding nothing but more guck. Lauren began to gag from the combination of slow strangulation and the smell of shit. Fifteen seconds and four more buckets. Panic was ramping up in her mind. Beet faced and scared to die, she launched herself at the remaining buckets and began to feel woozy from the noose. Ten seconds, nothing. She groaned and dug deep into the last two buckets until she felt a bit of metal in the fingers of her left hand. The key! Wiping what she could off of the key and reaching for the lock on the dog collar, she removed it at the four-second mark! She made it! Realizing she was not going to die from the floor dropping away but possibly from the stress on her neck, her head fell back and she hyperventilated herself into unconsciousness.

_This is my very first fanfic ever! Thank you for taking the time to read it. I'm really into the SAW series and got inspited by all of the fantastic SAW fanfic on this site, so I'm trying my hand at it. Regretfully, it will always be titled with "chapter one" though I hope to be inspired to write more. Please review even if its just a few words. XOXO MindMaze75_


	2. I Never Wanted It This Way

Chapter Two

I Never Wanted it This Way

Lauren's dreams were disconnected while she slept off the stress from the trap. They looked like photographs flashing before her eyes. A bouquet of flowers, the exterior of the tiny mobile home that she lived in, her high school graduation, her 30th birthday at that tavern on the corner, her fourth grade play where she was dressed as Mrs. Santa Claus, her angry ex boyfriend with that tight grip around her neck…."NO!" she tried to scream, but her throat was so destroyed by the noose that it sounded like a breathy whisper. Sitting up in a small bed she looked at her now clean hands in her lap then ran them over her face and through her hair. "What a nightmare!" she thought. Thinking about the dream she had about the dog barking, the noose around her neck, the filth she put her hands in. Looking over her hands, she reasoned that everything that had happened to her was just another nightmare, like the ones she has on a semi regular basis. She felt her neck and winced from the pain. The few top layers of skin had been rubbed away in a ring across her neck. Very slowly she lifted her head and saw that she was definitely not in her own bed.

The room was small, lit by one small lamp on the desk not far from the bed she sat in. Papers, sketch papers mostly lay in haphazard piles, some on the desk in files, some on the floor, obviously discarded by the artist. There was a glass of water on the nightstand next to the bed and she was in so much pain from being strangled, she gave in to drinking it to soothe her blazing ache. She sipped through the straw that was left in the glass not caring if someone had already used it. While she sipped, she looked around some more, but didn't dare make a sound by leaving her bed. There were books, mostly in their dust jackets, mostly on shelves. The floor had once been covered completely in linoleum but had been peeled away revealing the wood floor underneath. Where was she? The door was closed to her little room. Lauren didn't know whether she was being kept in or out. She was obviously comfortable and clean but in unfamiliar surroundings, and in unfamiliar clothes. She was wearing sweatpants, of all things. She hadn't worn sweatpants since she was faking cramps to get out of gym class in high school! "Where did THESE come from?" She whispered. Not that she has anything against people that wear sweatpants per say, but they are just not in her wardrobe. Ever. She was also wearing a ragatty t-shirt with a few holes in it. At least the red t-shirt matched the black sweatpants. Lauren couldn't believe that she was worried about what she was wearing when she didn't know where she was, let alone if the maniac that tried to kill her was lurking about.

Gently she replaced the now empty glass on the night table. Her neck and throat were distracting her thoughts as she wondered if maybe she made it out of the building and someone had found her outside and cleaned her up and treated her wounds. "Who would do such a thing? Take a random stranger and clean dog shit off of them and properly dress a friction burn?" Lauren felt the bandage lightly that was keeping her burn clean. The faint smell of tea tree oil was all around her; she determined that who ever was caring for her treated the wound with it after cleaning it. "Smart enough to know that tea tree oil takes the hot out of burns." she mused. "Maybe it's a doctor or a nurse someone with medical training."

She pursed her lips together as she began to hear quiet footsteps in the distance from behind the closed door. Was it the psychopath freak, or was it a kind stranger? Her breath became short as she listened to the heavy footfalls echoing in the distance. Straining to hear she put her ear to the door to see if the footsteps were coming toward her. Indeed they were as little by little they got louder and louder. Lauren held her breath paralyzed by the conflicting thoughts in her mind. Just as she could hold her breath no longer, she heard the sounds of a man coughing and gasping for air and it startled her out of her bones! The coughing was relentless. It shocked her back to being in the torture room, having just awoken and coughing herself hoarse as the man in the hallway was doing. Lauren felt a pang of empathy shoot through her heart. She stood there, listening to this man suffocating and decided that she could let it go on no longer.

She slowly turned the knob on the door and cracked it open letting a bit of light stream inside of her little room. It wasn't bright in the hall, and she squinted to see the figure of a man doubled over and clutching the wall for dear life, trying to regulate his breath and failing. Stepping slowly into the hallway, she moved toward the suffering man quietly. "Friend or foe?" It ran around her mind never finding an answer. She was only feet from him now, still close enough to the door to the little room to run and slam the door shut. The stranger was dressed in a cloak, which in her circle of friends is not an oddity, but on this man certainly was. She crouched over him and unable to speak, she softly put a hand on his shoulder.

The strangers other hand grabbed her hand from her shoulder and she had no choice but to hold the mans hand. His breathing slowed, and the coughing fit seemed to be over. Lauren looked at this frail man who was so ill and again, another empathy pang rattled her psyche. The stranger turned his head toward her at last. Frozen, Lauren just looked back at him. Frightened of what would happed next she matched his moves with his, rising into an upright position. Her hand was still in his grasp and to her great surprise, she was holding it back. They locked eyes, neither of them in a position to speak. Her stormy blue-gray eyes couldn't tear away from the cerulean blue eyes of this man, this total and complete stranger to her. He gently spun her in the direction of the small room and they walked, hands clasped together in a silent slow procession back to the small room.

Reaching their destination, he motioned for her to return to the bed and she silently obeyed. As he discarded the cloak he stranger remained silent. He went over to the desk and began sorting through the papers. Both were quiet as church mice as he busied himself with sketching and she sat up in the bed. Her simple question still hadn't been answered, friend or foe? Lying quietly with her eyes open, she swam through her mind, looking for a buoy of hope, any kind of gut feeling about who this man was and what his intentions were. He remained hunched over the desk, his back to her. Lauren saw the color return to his skin although he was still looking rather ill and exhaled deeply out of relief and to calm her nerves. She lied down on the pillow and stared at the ceiling, still knotted up inside about what was happening to her. Should she make a break for the door? No, she decided. "I don't even know if I'm in the same building I almost died in." She wasn't about to go to sleep not knowing if this stranger was a madman or a caring and upstanding citizen of the community. The gentle scratching of pencil on paper had a rhythm to it, almost like the music on a meditation cd. The sweeping of the pencils lulled her into feeling sleepy, as her body was exhausted. "If he wanted to kill me, he'd have done it already." she reasoned to herself. With an almost inaudible yawn, she settled into sleep letting her mind wander off. The stranger turned himself in his chair toward her. Once he was satisfied that she was at rest, he refilled her glass of water and set it on the night table. Looking down upon her, he dared to finger some of the bright red hair that lay wildly across her pillow before he retired to another room for the night.


	3. A Real Indication

Chapter Three

A Real Indication

Lauren awoke feeling refreshed from her long nap in a warm bed. Her hands fluttered up to the protective gauze that wrapped around her neck to protect from infection that had been re-dressed and freshened with a new bandage. The healing scent of tea tree oil had absorbed her senses that she didn't notice the mug of hot tea that sat steaming on the night table. Seeing it, she crawled across the bed to pick it up and inhale the warm honey and lemon scent. Her throat was still torn up and the inviting aroma instinctively nudged her will to soothe her wounds so she took a tentative sip of the tea. Wrapping her hands around the mug, her pain eased while she took the steam from the tea into her lungs and exhaled slowly, savoring this moment of bliss. Looking around the small room, she saw that all of the discarded sketches that were strewn around and crumpled up had been cleared away. The desk looked pretty much the same as it did before with its errant piles of papers and drawing pencils. The stranger was not there and Lauren was relieved for that. She was having a tough time figuring out who this man was and why he would take such great care in providing a comfortable place to recuperate. She felt by no means ungrateful for it, but there had to be a reason for all of this.

Her body ached from being in bed for so long, she swung her legs over the side of the bed while she sipped her tea. Her hair had become stringy with oil and tangled up in knots from rolling around in bed. The clothes she was wearing were at least two days old. She wondered if maybe there was a room somewhere that she could freshen up in and the thought of it made her involuntarily smile.

Out of nowhere, she heard what could be a large set of keys go crashing to the floor and she stiffened. What if it was the man? She was still not completely convinced that she was out of danger and she put the mug of sweet tea back on the night table. She scooted to the furthest corner of the bed and sat upright with her arms around her knees. The door crept open slowly with as little noise as possible and she could make out the shadow that spilled into the room was indeed the one of the man. At this moment, Lauren felt like a child instead of a grown adult woman of thirty-four. She flashed on the time back in grade school when she was sent to the principal's office and how intimidated she was about this man of authority. She shook away the memory for this could be a matter of life and death. The shape of the man entered and crossed the room to the desk carrying a brown grocery bag. Setting it down on the desk, he removed his coat and sat in the chair, noticing that she had awoken and partook of the tea by her bedside. Lauren, unable to speak, sat wrapped tight as a drum on the bed scared to pieces but trying to appear to him that this sort of thing happens to her everyday and that she wasn't afraid of him. Glaring eyes pierced his own from under the bangs of the women in the bed. "He doesn't look so ill anymore" she thought "It was probably all a trick, the coughing and gasping for air all an act to get me to let my guard down. Looks healthy as a horse to me!" She wanted him to say something, anything that would give her some idea about who he was and what he wanted from her. He looked at her, shrinking away from him on the bed and finally spoke. "Do you like your eggs scrambled?"

"Do I like my eggs scrambled? How is this even relevant to the proceedings here?" her mind raced as she struggled to understand why he was even interested in how she took her eggs. "Who cares?! Did you find me on the street? Are you a doctor? Are you the person who tried to kill me? And all you care about is eggs!" The frustration of not being able to speak was reaching the boiling point inside of her and she tried to scream but only a whisper poured out of her mouth. The man leaned forward in his chair and with his hands neatly folded in his lap he calmly spoke to her. "Please, you're going to injure your throat further if you try to speak at this time. Finish your tea and try to remain quiet." Tears welled up in her eyes, but she steadfastly held them back. There was no way that this guy was going to know that he frightened her. Especially since all he did was offer her eggs. "Since your throat still has a while to fully recover, you need to restrict your diet to soft foods only." He continued, "You've had nothing to eat for three days now and it's about time that you had something in your system. When I return, I will bring you some breakfast." With that, he left as quietly as he entered while Lauren remained in the upper corner of the bed.

No one had done anything like that for her since she was a little girl home sick from school and her mother would comfort her and bring her tea and dry toast. She sure as hell never had a boyfriend who would to anything like this for her. She was the one taking care of them if they got so much as a hangnail or heaven forbid they get a cold! How was it that a strange man who may or may not be a deranged killer treat her in helpful ways that every man she had trusted in the past never thought of? She drank the rest of the tea, not because he told her to but because she relished the flavor of the orange pekoe mixed with lemon and honey and the way it made her bothersome throat feel. Friend or foe? "A little from column A and a little from column B so far." Lauren bemused. She noticed a dusty old hatbox on the floor near the foot of her bed. She didn't want to make waves so she left it strictly alone, though she was curious about it's contents. She heard the rattling of silverware against dishes and then the familiar footsteps of the stranger, her stranger, her caretaker. The door opened and the man brought a serving tray and set it on the desk. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. The man closed the door to the small room saying to her "There's nothing to be afraid of. I did not poison your tea or your breakfast." He walked over to the desk retrieving the tray and instructed her to outstretch her legs so that he might place the tray in her lap. Still curled up protectively in the corner of the bed, Lauren decided that to obey might mean that she could avoid any further painful experiences; also she was ravenous from hunger. She slid over to the middle of the bed and the man snatched her pillows freezing her in place. "Lean forward." he commanded and he tucked the pillows in behind her back. He carefully laid the tray in her lap and handed her a spoon. Her plate carried a few scrambled up eggs with cinnamon, a small side of chicken broth. He also placed a ready-to-drink chocolate protein shake and a fresh mug of hot tea. Her hand trembling from both fear and malnutrition, she dropped it on the floor. Panic flashed in her eyes as she didn't specifically know what would set this guy off if he was nuts. It clattered to the floor and they both looked down at the spoon and then at each other. Sensing that Lauren was far too weak to make any sudden moves to catch falling silverware, he simply picked it up off the floor. He stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him. "Oh god, this is it, he's gonna kill me! What if it's an unforgivable act of disobedience in his world to abuse cutlery?" She sat with the food on her lap wondering if this was the moment she was going to cease to exist. He returned with a clean spoon and sat in the chair he had pulled up to the head of the bed. "There. No harm done" he said deciding to take her left hand and put the spoon in it and guiding it back to her plate. Her legs were shaking and he thought it a good idea to put the new mug of tea on the sturdier nightstand. Dizziness crept into her head and was affecting her vision as she was having trouble steadying her head square on her shoulders, making it difficult to eat. Her arms were tingling and she was starting to feel sick to her stomach. "You have to eat" he insisted, "That is why you are feeling the way you are". He took the spoon from her hand and placed it on the tray. He took the protein shake and put a straw in it. He lifted it to her grateful mouth and she lightly suctioned the straw around her lips and began to take the liquid nutrition into her body. It felt cool in her burning throat and she closed her eyes, thankful for the relief. Opening her eyes, with her dizziness subsiding she studied her counterpart. He was older than her, but still attractive enough in that rakish way that she found compellingly attractive. "Shut up Lauren!" she shouted at herself. "Now's not the time! If there ever was not a time to be thinking –that way- this is it!" Disappointed in herself for even entertaining such a thing, she let her gaze travel down to the tray. He continued to help her nourish herself finishing off the shake and bringing the mug of tea to her lips. That delicious, healing tea warmed her up nicely while she tried to slough off the nagging feeling of helplessness that she had not felt in years. Her ex made her feel the same way, only that guy stomped her psyche and soul into the dirt making her feel helpless. The stranger simply fed her and tended to her wounds while she was incapacitated.

After she had enough and the man put the tray back on the desk, he took his position back in the chair. Lauren's vision was back and she was feeling much better after the meal she was given. She tried to run her fingers through her hair, but got caught up in the mess of tangles. Choosing to ignore the situation she looked back down at her bed covers. Every time she looked at him she felt embarrassed. Here she was, a woman in her mid thirties, lying in filthy clothes with greasy & unwashed face and hair. She snuck a peek at his face wondering what he was thinking. His expression never changed when he looked at her. It wasn't so much cold as it was serene like a cemetery statue. The light played in his eyes, but his body language remained neutral. As if reading her mind he remarked, "Don't be ashamed. There are hundreds of thousands of people in the world that deserve to be ashamed of themselves but you are not one of them." She deliberately turned her head toward him to show no fear, but it was written all over her face. Slowly and with purpose she raised her eyes to study his face. Lauren felt a tad bit more confident in herself watching this man look at her as if she had freshly shampooed hair and was dressed in a ball gown. "How can he look at me? I look like a middle aged hausfrau!" Thinking was all she could do she resigned to the loss of her voice. The man leaned toward her. "Would you like to have a shower?" he inquired, "There's plenty of hot water and towels and I think it would make you feel better." There is nothing in this world she wanted more at that moment than to be clean. She carefully rolled the covers off of her and sat on the edge of the bed while the man watched. Lauren mustered all of the will in her body and stood up. She swayed a little from the lack of any recent verticality and reached out to steady herself on the arm of the strangers chair. "I must be a wreak, I'm accepting the offer of a shower from a man I've never met and what if I can't stand up? What then? I haven't even had so much as a handshake from a man in over four years, this is asinine!" The man rose out of the chair and put his right arm over her shoulder and took her left hand in his. "Take it slowly, no need to hurry." he said. "We have all the time in the world." She shuffled with him out of the small room and he led her to the washroom where she was looking forward to feeling human again.


	4. That I Would Be Good

Chapter Four

That I Would Be Good

Lauren was slightly stronger now due to the food she was given, but still not strong enough to walk on her own, as much as she wanted to. She did for herself for years. Nothing ever got done unless she did it herself and that's the way she preferred to live her life. But here, now, she needed help. Padding her way with the stranger to the washroom, she was again flushed with embarrassment at having to be helped to eat, walk, and ultimately clean her. The man took no notice of this and only continued to help her walk. She looked around the dimly lit hallway and saw rows of padlocked doors and wondered what was inside. She breathed heavy now, while he steadied her to the frame of the one unlocked door. He opened the door and the hallway was burning with bright white light from the washroom. It was spartan and clean, so clean that when her eyes adjusted she thought it must have been scrubbed with bleach and sandpaper. The sink and the commode were sparkling along with the shower with its brand new plastic curtain. There was a mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink and a row of empty shelves above the towel rack that held five clean towels of purple and white. Even the bathmat looked brand new, untouched. What surprised her most was that all of her cosmetics, shampoo, conditioner, hairbrushes, everything she owned were neatly lined up in rows on a metal rollaway cart. The stranger saw her eyes widen at the realization that the items weren't just the same as the ones in her home, that they were _the_ items from her home. She looked at him with one question blazing from her eyes. "How did you get into my house?" He guided her over to the commode lid and sat her down. "I didn't want to frighten you by telling you that I had been in your house before you showed some signs of improvement. Your keys were in your bag with your wallet and I went to gather up some things that I thought you might like to have." He spoke with that same damnable stoic face and that drove Lauren up a wall. "How can someone be so emotionless about breaking and entering someone's home? My home, my things. Who knows if he burned it down while I've been here?" "I've also brought you your own clothes, washed and folded in the laundry room next door."

"I'm being held captive but I get the fluff and fold service?" She did not understand this man. What could be his motive for keeping her here? It's not like she was much fun to be around, unable to speak or even walk on her own. He ignored the flashes of confusion that contorted her face. "I locked up and left your car in the driveway, safe and sound and left a note in the door of your neighbor to pick up your mail while you are away." "Away? How long am I going to be away? Am I ever even going home again?" Trapped in her mind, she brought her hands to her temples and began to rub them, bringing her elbows to her knees. "I know you're confused and that's to be expected, you've had quite the eventful few days." He walked over to the shower and pulled back the curtain like a magician unveiling his illusion. There in the shower stall sat a plastic chair just under the showerhead. "How strangely thoughtful. He's thought of everything." She admired this shared quality between them. Always tackling a project from all angles. That's what she felt like now, a project. The subject of some experiment executed from a helpful, yet possibly mad scientist. He returned to lean eye to eye with her. "You have to keep these bandages dry while you are in the shower. I'm going to tape some plastic around your neck."

"Tape is good, he could have said staple." she thought swallowing hard. He turned her so her back was toward him and gathered up her hair. She thought that no one should have to even look at her hair never mind touch it, so she obliged him by taking up the red tangled mess in her left hand.

Slowly, he sealed up the covering that was keeping her wound clean, his fingers moving carefully and cautiously around the back of her neck. She instinctively turned around for him when he had finished a section. She sat facing him while he knelt on the floor with his hands busy making sure that his handy work was precise and as near perfect as possible. While she was turned toward him, she studied his face trying desperately to find any clue, the slightest hint to who he was and why all of this was happening to her. She wanted to speak, she wanted to speak so badly that her mouth opened and she tried to make a sound, any sound, but again nothing. He turned her to finish his work and spoke. "I know you have many questions and I will oblige you to answering them after you get clean and comfortable. We will change your dressing after your shower." Lauren couldn't see him but gathered that he still had that same quiet expression on his face. It drove her nuts, but added to the mystery of who this stranger was, and that made her curious. "And we all know what they say about curiosity." she thought. Rolling her eyes at the absurdity of it all, she waited for him to finish taping her up and turned round again to meet his gaze. "Are you ready?" he asked her. Nodding she took his arm and stood up. He walked her carefully over to the shower and sat her in the chair. He knelt to help her with her socks but she jerked her foot up and took it off herself to show the man that she was more than capable of undressing herself. "Okay." He said placidly. "I'll draw the curtain and you can drop your clothes on the floor." "That's better!" she thought as the curtain enclosed her in the shower. "I'm afraid that I do have to remain in the room with you as you cannot call out for help if you need it." That was fine with her, as long as he didn't have to look at her naked. She suffered great embarrassment about the many surgical scars on her body. They were twisted, white and utterly unattractive. And they were everywhere. Clothing covered them up well, but she never dared to take her clothes off for years because of them. She peeled the now sweat soaked t-shirt from her body and just before she tossed it to the floor, it dawned on her. "This man must have seen me naked if he's the one who cleaned me up and changed my clothes!" She sat horrified at the thought that while unconscious he saw her, scars and all! She never saw anyone else since her stay here so it had to be him! "Oh god.." The tears welled up in her eyes and since she was hidden from his view, she let them fall. She worked quickly to undress herself so that she could turn on the shower to mask the sound of her crying. "Here are your things." His voice was right outside of the shower curtain and she retracted it just a little. Seeing her shampoo and various sundries that had been wheeled over to her, she looked up at him, forgetting that her face was covered in tears. She had kept her body hidden by bunching up some of the curtain to her from the neck down. He put his thumb and forefinger under her chin and lifted her face up. "Remember what I told you about feeling ashamed. You're free. You don't have to be ashamed anymore." And for the first time a slight, nearly unnoticeable smile crept onto his face. He turned and walked away leaving her to her shower. Thinking about what he said, she turned the shower on and let it rain down over her body. The steam clouded the shower stall and soothed her throat as she began the business of scrubbing the dirt and grease from herself. She began with the hair, as that was the first and foremost thing that needed tending to. She shampooed twice to make certain it was clean before applying a liberal amount of conditioner. While she let that set she went to work with her body wash and a facecloth. She forgot for a moment that she may be living with a madman and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of the body wash mingling with the warm water to clean and soften her skin. A faint moan from the complete nirvana she felt made it out of her mouth, beyond the cut up throat of hers. The steam must have opened up her lungs and softened her vocal chords just enough to let it escape. "Is everything all right in there?" the man asked. Obviously he had heard her and it made her clasp one hand over her betraying mouth. She had to give him some sign that she was fine so she did the only thing she could think of to do without getting water all over the place and revealing her naked soapy body. She stuck her hand out from behind the shower curtain and gave him the thumbs up.

She rinsed away the soap and was ready to get out. She shut off the water and wondered how she would get to the towels. She peeked out from behind the curtain finding the man standing there with the towels in his arms. Tentatively, she took them one by one and re closed the curtain. After wrapping her hair up in one of the towels, she dried her body and wrapped the largest of the towels around her. Meekly she opened the curtain and saw the man sitting on the commode seat looking at her freshly cleaned skin. He got up and approached her, saying nothing only extending his arm out to help her stand and walked her over to where he once sat. She sat nervously while he wheeled her grooming tools to her. She removed the towel from her head and began painstakingly picking through her tangled hair with a wide toothed comb while he gathered up the wet towels and dirty clothes and left the room. He returned with her plush white bathrobe and a set of clothes for her to wear. Placing them on the edge of the sink, he took up the robe and wrapped it around her shoulders. With much effort to keep her body hidden, she put her arms into the robe and tied it while letting the towel slip into her lap. Her hair was combed but still wet and she picked up her hair dryer and held the plug wondering where the closest outlet was. He took it from her hand and plugged it in beside the medicine cabinet. As she began to dry her hair she mulled over why he remained to watch her. Certainly now that she was safely out of the shower and in a seated position he would leave her to go do something more interesting than watching a woman blow dry her hair. He crossed the room and leaned against the wall in quiet observance. She felt like she was being studied again, like a lab rat. "Will I use the witch hazel or the alcohol to clean out the pores on my face?" she flashed through her mind. Twisting her neck was still difficult for her. One she dried her bangs; she wondered how she would get the rest of her hair dry. Picking up on her thoughts, he came to her and took the dryer from her hand and began to dry the back of her hair, his hand lightly touching her scalp and drying her hair in sections like a seasoned hairdresser. Like a child, she sat there while this older man took great care not to muss up her hair. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy this moment of someone taking care of her, just this one time. Once her hair was dry, he opened up the medicine cabinet to retrieve the supplies he needed to redress the wound around her neck. Without even thinking twice, Lauren pined her hair up off of her neck to allow him access to her neck. She thought she saw his face soften just a little as she looked up at him. He knelt to her and began carefully removing the protective plastic and tape first. It hurt her a little, but she remained still even through the removal of the bandage. "I want to see. I want to see my neck." She wanted to see what that freak show that put her in the noose did to her. She started to get up and the man put his hand on her shoulder and asked, "Are you sure?" How on earth he always knew what she was thinking was still a mystery to her. Nodding, she reached out for his hand and he helped her up to the mirror. She was shocked at her appearance. The raw ring of missing skin around her neck made her gasp. "It looks a lot worse than it is. The topical antibiotics and tea tree oil are helping just as they should." he explained. "Your range of motion in your neck will return with time if I properly dress the burn on a daily basis." It stung like crazy and she silently cursed out the bastard that did this to her. She hoped that a bus had hit him.

"Tea tree oil, I knew it!" she smirked while she sat back down allowing him to gently apply the antiseptic and antibiotic with a touch of tea tree oil to her skin with bits of cotton and wrap it back up in gauze. When he was finished, he put his hands on her shoulders and whispered in her ear "Your clothes are right here and I'll leave you to get dressed." He put away the medical supplies and exited the room, closing the door behind him. "Thank god!" She had a nagging feeling while she was drying her hair that he might want to stick around for that and she couldn't handle that. Unpinning her hair and dropping the robe she got dressed in the clothes that he had brought her. Blue jeans, black t-shirt and her black Chuck Taylor's. She had a little trouble with the sneakers, but managed to be completely dressed before he came back. Not wanting to be a sloppy guest, she picked up the robe from the floor and laid it over the tank of the commode. She put her styling products back in their original places on the tray. When he reappeared he stopped for a moment seeing that even in her pain she tidied up her things and cocked his head ever so slightly and actually, for the first time since her arrival let an emotion be seen. He smiled, he actually smiled! She was giddy from this and reminded herself "Not the time, not the place." The stranger gathered up her upper body in his arms and began to lead her back to the little room, though Lauren considered it her room now since she spent so much time there. With the sneakers, the traction was better for her to walk, but she let her mind slip into enjoying being in this mans arms, even if he was just helping her back to bed. He closed the door and set her down in the freshly cleaned bed and handed her a mug of that wonderful tea. "Would you like something to eat?" he asked her with a hand on her arm. She nodded. The last thing she wanted was to get woozy again, she wanted to get strong. He patted her arm and left the room, leaving her with her tea and her thoughts. "Friend." she decided.


	5. Color Blind

Chapter Five

Color Blind

Refreshed and rejuvenated from her shower Lauren felt reborn. The tea she drank made her throat feel better and she wondered if she would be able to speak soon for how could the stranger any of the questions that she had for him if she wasn't able to ask them? She opened her mouth and gave it a go. A gurgle was all she could manage and clearly her voice was still days maybe weeks away form returning. She resigned to being a mute guest in the mans life and reminded herself that she would eventually regain her power of speech and re grow skin on her neck. "It's not going to be forever. It's almost like taking a vacation from my real life and boy, what more could I ask for? Oh, right." She remembered that she needed to know the identity of her mysterious caretaker and the circumstances in which she was brought here. Looking around the small room she wondered "Where's here?" So many questions and a total lack of communication on her part would make things difficult. She shrugged her shoulders and sipped her specialty tea. "I gotta get the recipe before I go." She acknowledged that there was a teeny tiny part of her that really wanted to stay, who wouldn't? Room service with all of the amenities! She turned her head and realized quickly that this wasn't all vacation. She was hurt and she still didn't know who was responsible for it. Maybe the man saw something when he found her. Maybe he saw a car or a license plate number, maybe even a glimpse of the son of a bitch that did this to her! Smiling, she put her mug on the night table and sighed. A knock on the door and the man entered with a meal for her on the same tray he had brought her breakfast in on. Now it held a dinner plate with a bowl of soba noodles, a side of applesauce and another side of mashed yams. He also brought her a large cup of water and a mug of coffee. "COFFEE!" she thought "Blessed coffee, where have you been?!" She grinned upon seeing her meal and looked up at the man. He laid the tray in her lap and brought his desk chair over to her. She needed no help in diving into the delicious selection that he brought for her. She began with the noodles and in no time finished her dinner and was savoring her coffee. She had missed coffee so much she swooned a little upon her first sip. The man chuckled lightly as he took her tray and put it back on the desk saying "Addictive, but still completely legal. You deserve something special after all you have been through."

"Damn right!" she thought, "Since I have no voice or neck skin." She held the mug up to her lips and took another big sip and sighed. "Now," he began "You must want to know who I am." She nodded as he sat back in the desk chair. "I have been totally honest with you thus far and I would very much appreciate it if I could remain honest with you."

Lauren stiffened. It was the first hint of realization for her that this man, this stranger held all the cards. "Is her even going to tell me the truth? No matter what he tells me, it's all I'm going to know about who he as an where I am." Her heart went cold and her hands rocked her coffee in the mug. She set it down, rather than risking it falling into her lap. Drawing her knees up to her chin and looked in his eyes. Those piercing blue eyes that could see right through her walls. Those walls born of four years of disconnection from any type of relationship be it friend or anything more. This cold heart, protected by all of the years of social isolation would not simply melt away in this mans hands. Not tonight. Lauren braced herself before he settled back into his chair and continued. "I want you to know that you are completely safe here, there is no reason for you to feel frightened. I'm not going to hurt you, I only want to help you, make you strong again. My name is John Kramer." Immediately her hand went to the bandage around her neck.

She pleaded to him with her eyes "Who did this to me? Who tried to kill me? Did you try to kill me?"

John continued "I know that you are in pain and it's bothersome to remain silent throughout your recovery, and I want to be sure that you know that I understand the frustration of wanting to verbally communicate your needs and being restricted from doing so. It's not easy to listen, not in our society these days." John paused in reflective thought a moment, on the downfall of society as a whole. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he sighed and looked into Laurens eyes and spoke softly now. "You are not being held here captive. You can leave anytime you wish; you are not mine to keep. Your belongings can be collected and waiting for you by the door in ten minutes if that is what you want. You are free to leave and never return if that is what you want." John leaned forward in his chair and leaned forward. "Is that what you want Lauren?" he asked.

For the first time in her life, there was choice where there was always clarity. She lived with the notion that where there is no choice, just the clearest path from "A" to "B". Now, she was clouded and she began shifting her eyes as her mind struggled for an answer. What did she have to go home to? A cold trailer out along the highway? She was already in debt and that wasn't going to change anytime soon. "Wait, wait!" she thought "The very idea that you could live here with this John guy is totally reckless and makes no sense." Maybe it didn't have to make sense. She held fast to her way of life to maintain order and to control her environment in every way. "Maybe that's why my life is so sad and pathetic. I don't even smile anymore unless I'm faking it. Wait, I smiled just today, walking back from my shower! Hold on," Her eyes puzzled bit at the very idea that her only legitimate smile in four years was just an hour ago, right here, with John. Her face softened as she began to think about John. He had taken excellent care of her in every way and she genuinely liked him. An absurd thought for her to like anyone, but John had found her weakness, safety. She was safe here she was sure of it. "Besides, John's easy on the eyes." She thought, and then quickly scolded herself for it.

John was still waiting for his answer. Lauren looked down at the bed sheets and took a deep breath. And jumped.

Shaking her head "No." she held her breath, closing her eyes. She felt a sag on the mattress so she looked up and there was John Kramer, a man who pulled her out of hell and brought her back to life. He put his thumb and forefinger under her chin, just has he done earlier that day when she was in the shower. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I want to be completely clear. You can leave if you want to. I'll even bring your car around and help you pack if that's what you want."

In that moment, Lauren was positive about her decision. She was staying. Two sets of blue eyes met and she was sure that she felt her heart shudder a little. John took his hand away from her chin and tucked a bit of her long hair behind her ear. "Good. Now that that is settled, would you like to know what's in the hatbox?" She had wondered about that earlier and it appeared that he was reading her mind again. "God, I hope he doesn't think he's attractive, I'd die of embarrassment." she thought.

He reached down to the floor at the end of the bed and picked it up and put it in her hands. She unclasped the box and lifted the lid revealing scarves of all different patterns and colors. Some of them had little flecks of sequins on them, others bold colors. She started to sort through them and she looked at John, who was beaming at her reaction to his gift with a slight smile peeking through the glow of his eyes. She took out a royal purple one and wrapped it around her bandaged neck leaving the excess to hang over her collarbone. For the second time in four years, she smiled, grateful for the scarves. They would make her feel less self conscious about her injury. "Maybe John would forget for a while that I'm a disfigured mess." she mused, then again mentally slapping herself for the thought. "Knock it off hormones! Go away!" John got up from the bed and got a cracked hand mirror from one of the desk drawers and handed it to her. It was a little dusty but she could see herself in it and had to admit it looked good on her and covered up the bandage nicely and thought, "Maybe I could forget for a while." She put the mirror on the night table and motioned John back over. He sat on the bed and she took a big drink of water and sat close to him near his left shoulder and mustered up the best whisper that she could. "Thank you, John." He turned around to face her on the bed. She smiled and bashfully hid it with her right hand and dropping her head. He reached out and again tucking her hair back behind her ear. "You're welcome, Lauren."

Leaving her with her bounty of scarves, John rose from the bed and took the dinner tray away, this time leaving the door open. Lauren took notice of the open door and remained on the bed. She took out each scarf and examined them. They were beautiful and looked unworn which was a change for her. Used clothing had been the fashion of choice for her these past few years. The Salvation Army store was where she shopped most. Nice unworn things came few and far between and when they did come along, they were cherished as one would cherish a lover. After her lap was covered in material, she went to the task of folding each one carefully and placing them in groups according to hue back in the hatbox. She could hear a faucet running and dishes clanking against each other from somewhere down the hall, but she was engrossed in her little project. When she was finished, she clasped the lock on the box and put it on the floor under the bed so it wouldn't be stumbled upon. The noise in the kitchen stopped, but John had not returned. Lauren was thirsty and out of water so she took her empty glass and made her way down the hallway toward where she thought the sound of washing dishes was coming from. She passed the washroom and the laundry room amidst all of the other locked rooms. She saw the light from an open door at the end of the hall spill into the hallway so she headed down to investigate. She walked heel-toe down to the light and squinting her eyes, found John leaning on a metal table with his hands over his face sighing over and over again, whispering to himself. Lauren couldn't make out what he was saying and couldn't make that coughing sound that people make to excuse themselves, so she knocked four times lightly with her fingernail on the table. Snapping his head up he saw her standing there with her empty glass. She raised her hand and waved her fingers with an apologetic 'hello' and she went over to the sink. John jumped up and put himself in front of the sink saying "That water is good enough for washing up but in no way is it potable. Come over here." He led her to what looked like an abandoned household refrigerator and opened it, revealing bottled spring water. He took out an already opened bottle and refilled her water glass. Handing it back to her, John's fingers grazed Laurens for a moment and it made her sizzle. She had to learn to control herself around him and make sure that he didn't get too close. "That's when it gets messy." she reminded herself.

Yawning, she sat back down on the bed, more relaxed now about being here. Whoever tried to do this to her she felt, was far away and there was only John Kramer, the kind old man that took her in and took care of her. She lay down with her hands behind her head and rested her eyes. It had been a long day. Or was it night, she wasn't sure. Either way, she was emotionally exhausted from the recent events and drifted off to sleep, forgetting that she was still fully dressed.


	6. I Don't Sleep, I Dream

Chapter Six

I Don't Sleep, I Dream

In no time, Lauren was fast asleep on top of her covers. John stopped in to check on her on his way from the kitchen and found her long gone into sleep. Usually he likes to sketch at the desk while she slept, but he had other things planned for that evening. He figured that since she was familiar with where the washroom and kitchen were and the fact that she was physically stronger now, he could leave her alone for a few hours while he went to another part of the warehouse to work on one of his projects. He closed the door quietly so that she would not be disturbed and set off into the blackness of the warehouse, armed with Laurens mag light that was in her car when she arrived. Soon, he came upon one of the many-padlocked doors and taking a set of keys from his pocket, he unlocked it and entered. Flicking on the light switch, he closed the door behind him, and hoped that Lauren wouldn't hear a thing.

Lauren was curled on her side now, dreaming of a place that didn't exist for anyone but her. This place carved out of meditation, countless therapy sessions, and a wish for complete serenity, where her mind went every time she closed her eyes. She saw the bright orange sunset over the mountains and felt it's warmth on her skin. The breeze blew lightly, moving the long tendrils of her hair from her shoulders as she began walking on the trail among the trees and along the small brook that ran parallel to her. The sky was clear blue and not a hint of rain was in the air. She inhaled deeply, feeling the rush of the outdoors fill her lungs and free her mind. She loved to dream. In her dreams she felt safe from the real world that was just beyond her eyelids, waiting to remind her of her daily grind of foraging for the dented cans and discontinued or about to expire food at the market. There were no stares from the soccer moms filling their baskets with whatever they pleased as they chatted aloud on their hands free cell phones. No impatient customers behind her in line while she shook her purse for a few more cents to pay for them giving her the same look of annoyance as the teenage cashiers working there for gas money to fill the tanks of their brand new cars they got on their sixteenth birthdays. No flea market clothes that were faded or torn, no stealing toilet roll from restaurants. It was just she and her little world beyond consciousness. The wind began to pick up swirling the leaves around her feet and whipping her hair in all directions. The trees began to bend with the force of the wind and branches began to snap all around her. She looked up and the blue sky was gone, replaced by swirling black clouds low in the sky. Lauren tried to shout but here, even in her dreams, she could not speak. There was pressure around her neck and she began twisting, trying to find what was hurting her. She shut her eyes tight and when she opened them, she was back in that room. The rope noosed around her neck tightly. Panic stricken, she tried to loosen it but it only got tighter as she tried. Tears sprang to her eyes; she was trapped, as she had been that night! She struggled to free herself and suddenly in front of her appeared the dark shape of a man. "John! John!" She thought, "Is that you? Help me!" The shape drew closer and she called out his name in her mind as loud as she could. "John! I'm dying! Help me!" She could feel his hands on her shoulders. The hands were around her neck now, replacing the noose and they were squeezing hard. "What are you doing? You're hurting me! Stop!" her mind raced. The sole source of light flickered brighter in the bulb. It was her ex. He was in that room strangling her to death, his vice like grip around her neck expelling the last bit of air from her lungs as her unstoppable tears dropped from her cheeks to the floor. Another flash of light and she saw Johns face on her ex's body and he was not letting up. She mouthed the words "No! Why are you dong this?" She scratched and pounded on the hands, trying to free herself. "Help me!" her mind screamed.

John had forgotten something in the living space of the warehouse and he was in the far corridor when he heard a crash coming from the small room where Lauren slept. Moving quickly he opened the door to find a shattered tea mug and Lauren on the floor gasping for air. "Lauren? Lauren wake up." He looked at her neck and she had tore open the gauze and padding from around her neck and was clawing at it unconsciously. He got down on the floor with her and grabbing her by the shoulders shook her and shouted "Lauren! Wake up! Wake up!" Her eyes opened but still she was shrieking and beads of sweat and tears dripped from her face. "It's only me!" he said but that didn't help the situation. Once Lauren was fully conscious she stopped moving, she stopped breathing and pausing to realize she was awake, she looked at Johns face, the face that was moments ago trying to suffocate her. She clasped her hands over her mouth and moved away from him. He turned on the bedside lamp and studied her. She was fully awake now, but why can't he get near her? He wanted to take her to the washroom to redress her neck, but she looked at him with such fear and such hate that he didn't know what to do. She reminded him of a cornered animal that would snap at anything that got close. Sobbing into her hands, Lauren didn't want to believe what she had just seen, that the man that carefully nursed her back from the edge of death could be the same man as her ex. On her knees, she collapsed forward to the floor, but John caught her by the upper arms and eased her into a sitting position next to him on the floor. She stared off into nowhere as she slowly came to realize that it was all a dream, something to be left behind now. Reality, it seemed, was much kinder to her now. She didn't have to rely on sleep to escape now that she was perfectly safe here. John never had to deal with this kind of hysteria before. Looking at her, he put a protective arm around her and her breathing began to slow to normal. She began to wipe her tears away with the napkin left over from her dinner. "I'm safe now." She thought, "It's only him and me." Her head fell into the space between John's body and the arm he had around her. They sat this way for a half an hour. John's work across the way would be there for him when he got back, and with Lauren in such a state he was in no hurry. He saw the torn scarf among the bits of bloodied gauze and tape on the floor. He took note, "No scarves at bedtime."

Her neck began to burn with her torn and raw skin around her neck. Instantly she looked up at John who hadn't moved a muscle since he put his arm around her. "What have I done?" Her eyes pleaded.

"It's alright." John replied out loud. He put his free hand in hers indicating that he wanted her up off of the floor and onto the bed, for both their sakes. She obeyed and he flicked on the overhead light to inspect her neck. It was free from infection, but it wouldn't be for long if it wasn't cleaned and dressed soon. She kept her eyes closed, embarrassed by her actions. Tearing away her dressing, pushing John away when he was only trying to help. "Look at me." he said in a stern but not an angry voice. She did, and when her eyes met his, his voice softened. "We have to go to the washroom now to clean up your neck. Can you walk?" "Of course I can walk" she thought standing up and not breaking their stare. He saw how badly her nightmare scared her and felt a sort of pity for her. She looked like a lost child crying out for her father immediately upon waking up and it hit him in the heart. He didn't ask her about the dream, he thought it best not to now that she was calmed down. They walked slowly and silently to the washroom and Lauren sat on the commode lid while John got the medicines out of the cabinet. Setting them down on a steel tray, he went to the towel rack and took a facecloth and a hand towel to cleanse and dry her neck. She quietly put her hair in a topknot before he went to work, picking off the remaining tape and gauze while she sat there, feeling nothing. Carefully, he cleansed the wound, and she obliged him by turning when necessary while she sat to give him easer access to the sides and back of her neck. She felt the cold sting of the antiseptic and shivered as he applied it. After the gauze safely encased the antibiotic and tea tree oil, she looked at him apologetically and he put a hand to her face and said, "Those dreams are a residue of what your life used to be, not what it is now. Now you know that you can be who you are without being afraid." He paused a moment and moved his face close to hers. "Do you trust me?" he asked her watching her lower lip quiver and her attempt to stop it by biting it. They were so close that they were breathing the same air and that got Laurens heart to pounding. He was so close to her now, closer than ever and her hormones raged against her common sense. She wanted to stay like this forever but she knew he was waiting for answer. She whispered, "Yes. I trust you." Meaning every word of it, she put her hand to his face, letting her emotions get the best of her. He felt warm and soft under her palm. She rose not moving her hand from his face, or his from hers. They stood with their eyes locked for a moment, and then John unfastened the topknot from Laurens hair letting her curls spill over her shoulders. Lauren in turn ran her fingers through the natural blond curls of his own then dropping her hand to her side she began to walk out of the washroom. After a few steps, she looked back over her shoulder to see if he would follow her. John stepped up to meet her and together they walked out, Lauren clicking off the light as they exited.

Reaching the little room, he ushered her in and went to work picking up the shards of coffee mug and bloody bandages. She picked up her torn scarf and sighed. Here she was, given a gift by a kind man and she had been so ungrateful as to destroy part of it. "Even if I was unconscious when I did it, its no excuse for being so rude." she thought. "The last thing I want him to think about me is that I'm a lousy houseguest, and I've already destroyed the mug!" She sulked feeling bad about what she had done. After the last bits of fabric and porcelain were cleared away, he told her that he would make her a fresh cup of coffee. She smiled at the offer and while he was making his way out of the room, her hand reached out to lightly touch his arm. John looked back to her and she used up the last vestiges of her voice for a while and whispered "Thank you, John." He gave her a smile and softly spoke, "You're welcome. Lauren."

While he was brewing her coffee, she glanced over at the desk, now devoid of any sketches or folders. His pencils were still there along with a pile of fresh sketching paper, but no sketches. "Maybe he found a quieter place to draw," she thought to herself. "With me kicking up a fuss at a bad dream, maybe it's better that way. I'll miss the swirling sound of his sketching, but it's for the best. Who could concentrate with me thrashing around like a maniac?" She fingered the cleared off desk and pulled out the chair and sat in it in quiet reflection. She turned the chair to see what his view of her would be if she were lying in bed. She rolled her eyes at her own narcissism. There were three desk drawers on either side of the chair. She rested her hand on the top-drawer handle on the right and stopped short of opening it. Who was she to snoop in his desk drawers? She floated her hand down to her lap and decided to keep her hands to herself. Whatever was in those drawers was none of her business, unless John makes it her business by offering to show her. She often wondered what he was sketching late into the night. Whatever it was it was all consuming for often she would open her eyes and find him passed out with his head on the desk. Maybe if he fell asleep there again, she would tuck one of her pillows in under his head so at least his neck wouldn't be so stiff when he woke up.

John returned with her coffee to see Lauren lazily sitting in his chair. She twirled around to face him and he eyed her cautiously offering his hand to her. She took it as a sign of "Get the hell out of my chair and away from my desk." In a gentlemanly way, of course.

She took the opportunity to feel her skin against hers even if it was ever so brief and totally platonic. "Any port in a storm" as her mother used to say. She sat on the edge of the bed and he dragged the chair to her bedside. She inhaled the orgasmic scent of Colombian roasted beans and sipped her coffee reverently. John figured that the coffee would keep her awake for a few hours so that she wouldn't have to go back to sleep so quickly after a night terror. He was wide awake and because he delayed his project for the time being, he had time to spend with her and in a strange way he was looking forward to finding out more about her. That wouldn't be easy considering she was a long way off from speaking for a while. Lauren was glad that he was sticking around as well, but she had the same nagging feeling. "How am I supposed to communicate? Shadow puppets? Charades?" she thought, "I wonder if he has any ideas."

John got up and went to his desk and took a fresh piece of sketch paper from the pile and a pencil from the holder. She swallowed hard and watched him put pencil to paper. A moment later, he returned to his chair with the paper & and pencil attached to a wooden clipboard. He handed it to her and she took it. It read, "Maybe this will help?"


	7. Deliver Me

Chapter Seven

Deliver Me

Lauren looked at the message and shrugged "Okay". After all, it had to be easier to write than to communicate via smoke signal. She looked up at John and picked up the pencil. Scratching her first complete sentence in a while, she offered the clipboard back to John. _Are we all alone here?_

John nodded and said, "Yes. No one else is in this building and I've made sure of that. No one can enter without my being alerted to the intrusion. I've taken certain measures to ensure our complete safety and security."

Lauren nodded and reached out for the clipboard. John smiled, "Asking questions is the best way to learn." He gave it to her and waited for the next message from his eager docent. Scribbling away, she tried to write as neatly as she could. She handed the clipboard back.

_Did you find me here?_

"Yes, I did." He answered. "You were found here with no idea who you were or what had happened to you. You were injured and I brought you here to help you recover from your wounds. You had faced hell alone and I could not allow you to be left alone in your condition. My dear, you have another chance now to live a new life, one with meaning and purpose." John stopped quickly and asked her "Isn't that what you want?"

"Who doesn't?" she thought and nodded "Yes."

"You have the potential to do anything you want, we all do. All we need is someone to show us the way to a new life, leaving the roles given to us and creating our own by becoming reborn." John explained.

"Uh-oh," she thought, "He's recruiting for an established religion and I'm his captive audience. I'm going to be brainwashed into thinking that the next appearance of a solar eclipse signals the master plan of committing suicide in a track suit and a fresh pair of Nikes!" Snatching the clipboard, she wrote, "I'm not looking to subscribe to any religion, so forget about it!" She tossed it into his lap with a look of defiance. John read it and continued. "This isn't about religion or any belief whatsoever in a godhead or an afterlife. This is about believing in yourself and your abilities enough to overcome any fear or emotional attachment over that which you cannot control." The fire in his eyes was glowing in the semi-darkness sending unwanted bolts of passion throughout her body. She hoped that he could not see her tremble.

"Lauren, right now you have the opportunity to begin to learn the way of living with no regrets, no shame, and no limits." He leaned in toward where she sat on the edge of the bed, his torso parting her knees just a touch to get his face closer to hers. "I have given you the tools to heal your body. Will you accept now the tools that will open your eyes to a world you never dreamed of?"

John was so close to her now, she dared not turn him down. She liked that he was direct and somewhat commanding. She decided to forsake her old life and allow John in just a little bit deeper than she already had. She took in a deep breath, saying goodbye to her job, her home, her life and everything that existed before John Kramer and let it out to surrender to him. She took the pencil and wrote, "Yes" on the paper and handed it to him.

"You don't know it yet, but this is the room you became reborn in." he explained as he knelt in front of he bed between her knees. John took her face in his hands and smiled. "This is the very first day of your new life."

Lauren didn't know what to do now. She knew what she wanted to do, at least what the estrogen in her body wanted her to do, but she charged the emotions deep into her heart where he wouldn't be able to see. If not for her sneakers, her toes would have betrayed her because they were curling at his touch. He was mere inches from her face, and it made her uneasy, but also thrilling for her at the same time. He slowly released her face from his hands, his fingertips dragging lightly down her face and backed his face away slowly, and his body remaining between her knees. Lauren almost let her upper body fall back onto the bed in complete abandon to him and in whatever he wanted to do with her, but she stuck to her resolve and with everything she had, remained upright.

John could sense a conflict within her and reminded her "You don't have anything to be ashamed of anymore. You are stronger than you have ever been in our life."

"If he only knew!" she thought placing her palms behind her on the bed to avoid the temptation of doing something foolish. The heat inside of her was rising and if he didn't sit back in the chair soon, she feared that she would lose total control. "In the name of all things great and small, please sit down!" Her mind yelled out.

"You don't know how pleased I am that you've agreed." He said as he retook his place in the chair.

"You don't know how please I am that you're not between my legs anymore!" Lauren gratefully acknowledged to herself "I think."

"Would you mind if we took a pause so that I could get a glass of water?" he asked, "I could get you a warmer." indicating the now room temperature coffee on the nightstand.

"Yes, thank you." She mouthed to him. He took her cup and went down the hall to the kitchen. She snatched up the clipboard wondering what she should ask him next. She didn't feel comfortable anymore about asking him if he had tried to kill her when it was clearly impossible. He had cared for her in ways that were until very recently unheard of, at least to her, by the male species. "Why was such a man hidden away in a warehouse in the nowhere district?" she wondered. "This guy is a real catch if he is who he says he is. Why hasn't some woman snatched him up yet?" She felt that was too personal a question so she went with something else.

_Do I live here now? Is this my new home? _

John returned shortly after and placed both her coffee and his water on the nightstand. Seeing that she had written another question in his absence, he sat down to read it.

"This can be your new home if you like. You began your new life here, so if you want this to be your home it is so." He replied returning the clipboard to her. Writing quickly,

_I would like to live here, please. _

"You are very polite." He observed obviously impressed with her use of the words "please" and "thank you" while communicating with him. "So few remember the days when such politeness was common in the American society. I suppose it is a dying art as well as letter writing now." He looked over her shoulder to an imaginary distance beyond the wall of the room, beyond the walls of the entire building into a world she could not see. She folded her hands and waited for him to come back from wherever it was he went. Lauren was no stranger being lost in thought and quietly sat in reflection of the woman she was and the one she would become. "It would be nice to have some sort of drive inside other than shelter and hunger. Maybe I'm an artist at heart, maybe I'm an interior decorator, and maybe I'm a nurse. He basically said the sky's the limit for me." She thought.

John coughed a little returning back from his thought trance. "I'm sorry, where was I?" he asked her losing his place in reality for a moment. Lauren wrote

_You said I was polite. Thank you for noticing! _

"Ah yes," said John wiping his brow and sighing. "So since you have decided to make this your home, would you like the grand tour? It's easy to get lost here, so I've taken the liberty of painting markers on the walls for you to follow in case you lose your way."

Her brain piqued at the idea and stood up from the bed waiting for John to lead the way. Taking her right hand, he rose from the chair and ushered her into the hall.

"You are already familiar with the washroom, the laundry and the kitchen that way." he said pointing to the right. "This way," he indicated walking hand in hand with her straight down the corridor. "These locks on the doors are for your own protection. Do not ever think that I am ever being dishonest with you. I want you to be completely safe so I padlocked any room that I thought held danger." She followed along with him, her hand safely in his grasp. A few of the doors were open, but they contained nothing of any consequence. Peeling paint, smoke damage from a fire decades ago, discarded and dusty boxes half opened. "Careful, there are some stairs here" he cautioned as he clicked her flashlight on. "Hey," she motioned "I know where you got that! Wait, why do you have that? How did you get that?" she confronted him, her face scrunched up with worry. She remembered having the flashlight shortly before she was attacked and demanded an answer from him and wouldn't go any further without an answer.

Softly he gripped her hand and began to explain. " I found this on the sidewalk outside on the day I found you and brought you here. It looked too new to have been left here years ago, and I thought that it might be yours." She searched for any hint of bullshit on him but detected none. She squeezed his hand in hers and shrugged. "Shall we continue?" he asked, that stoic expression back on his face. Lauren rolled her eyes quietly. "Here we go again, back to square one." She thought that they were past this at this point but she was back to feeling like an unwanted guest. He could do that to her so effortlessly that it bugged her. He got under her skin enough times a day to leave her aching for his touch when her head hit her pillow. Navigating the stairway down to another floor, she noticed a painting of a black and white swirling vortex on the wall leading up to the living quarters. John lit it up with the flashlight. "See here? This indicates that this is where you should go in case of an emergency or intruder. I didn't want to paint exact directions to our whereabouts in the event that should occur." he said "These rooms are empty and are unlocked as you can see." He opened a few of the doors along the hall revealing their uselessness. Further down there is a stairway to the buildings boiler room and the basement. Nothing fun down here, but this way." He said leading her to a giant metal door. "Are you ready?" he asked. She nodded quickly and he grabbed he handle on the bottom and lifted the loud booming door to reveal an empty dock for trucks. Outside! She looked at him and looked out the door, blinking from the sun that beat down. He let go of her hand and let her wander carefully outside. From the dock she could see rows and rows of warehouses, all of them long outliving their usefulness. She looked up and saw the blue sky and let the sun beat down on her as John watched her amused and intrigued by her reaction to simply going outside. He put his hands in his jacket pockets and watched her smile and raised her arms to her sides welcoming the new sensation to her skin. She stopped and looked at John smiling at her. She knew that he wouldn't be annoyed with her for long, even if he were giving her the straight face before. She ran back in to him and motioned for him to come outside with her. "Not today Lauren." he said half-heartedly. "Maybe another time."

She didn't know why he wouldn't come outside but rationalized that he had his reasons and that she should respect them. So she took one of his hands in both of hers and led him toward back the way they came. John closed the door to the dock and reset the lock. "Before we go," he said bringing her close. He retrieved a key from his coat pocket and brought up to her eye level. "This unlocks the door. I told you that you were not a prisoner here and this is so that you can come and go as you please."

She was shocked! A key, for her? Come and go? It had never even crossed her mind to leave the warehouse for any reason, but he was being practical. If she was going to leave, he wasn't going to stop her, what would be the point.

Lauren was hesitant at first so he pressed the key into her right hand and said, "Take it. You have complete freedom here." She took it and lacking any real place to put it, she stuck it in one of her bra cups. "One of the perks of being a chick!" she thought and giggled from behind her hand. He liked how spontaneous she could be and the candidness she showed from behind her walls. Like she was peeking over one of them to wave to him once in a while and let him know that she was in there.

They returned to the second floor and she pointed to her bare wrist indicating that she wanted to know what time it was. "I know, it's frustrating not knowing what time it is." he said revealing a second treasure from his pocket, a sterling silver watch with a purple background and silver hour and minute hands. She took the watch in her hands and turned it over. Engraved on the back it read "Forever, J.K." This brought happy tears to her eyes. She was overwhelmed by the generosity of him and she smiled through her tears as she let him put it around her left wrist. It fit nicely and she was so grateful for the gift that without a single thought, she threw her arms around his neck. "What the hell," she thought "I can't tell him how much I love it!" He put his arms around her waist in reciprocation and said "You're welcome, Lauren."

There they stood, bodies pressed together in appreciation of one another. Lauren realized that she might be holding onto this hug longer than she should be and moved to separate. John held her there, gently but firmly. He was enjoying her body pressed against his and her breath on his neck. Hearts beat fast in that moment as he slowly slid his hands over her back, feeling her every breath with his and her hands in his hair. It only took a moment. Just one moment in that decrepit building and her heart began to melt. She shivered and nuzzled her face against his neck and touched his smiling face. He released and put one arm around her body leading her to their room. Lauren was more floating than she was walking, for she was high from the feeling of another man against her body, even if they were fully clothed and standing up. They reached their destination and she walked toward the washroom for a quick shower. With a sheepish grin, she took one last look at him for the time being standing against the wall in the corridor. John smiled back saying "Don't be too long." She closed the door and slid down it to sit on the floor. "This is, well its, I don't know what it is, but I love it!" she thought, her mind and heart floating in the air. She turned on the shower and waited for the steam to billow out from behind the curtain. Removing her clothes and her watch, she let the hot water run down her body for ten minutes before she started on her hair. She didn't want to lose this feeling. She wanted to stay in it forever and never let it go. She felt. She actually felt.


	8. Beautiful Stranger

Chapter Eight

Beautiful Stranger

Her hair was wet and shaggy when she looked in the mirror and began to peel away the plastic covering that sealed in her dressing around her neck. She had watched John do it and didn't feel the need to bother him to do it for her. Lauren relished the feel of his fingers softly tending to her neck wound, but her sense of self wouldn't allow her to submit herself completely to anyone. John had gone above and beyond already, nursing her back to life couldn't have been easy on him. She studied her neck and saw a thin layer of regenerated skin beginning to form. Smiling, she applied all of the medicine to her neck and wrapped it carefully. She dropped her towel to the floor and put on her robe before placing the medication back into the mirrored cabinet. Shutting it, she gasped and turned around to John standing in the doorway. She hadn't heard a thing, not the sound of an opening door, nothing and it scared her to bits that she could be snuck up on so easily! Instantly she thought "Did he just see me naked?" Holding the robe tightly around her shoulders, she looked like a deer in headlights, unable to move or even blink she was so stunned to see him standing there casually leaning on the door of the washroom. Charmed by her reaction to him, he smiled and said "Nice work."

Her mind flashed "Nice work? What nice work? What the hell is he talking about?" John saw her abject confusion over the question and felt the need to clarify. "The bandage. You did it by yourself and it looks good." Lauren sighed grateful that she wasn't losing her mind. Looking at him, she did her best Vanna White pose and waved him away. She turned to the mirror to apply her moisturizer to her face before donning her nightgown. She watched him watch her in the mirror and tried to keep her face from flushing. She wasn't used to being watched and she tried to remain calm and collected to keep her hands from shaking. "I'm not doing anything remotely interesting, so why is he watching me?" she thought. She turned to him and unable to make the sound "Ahem", she walked over to the doorway and put her fingers on his chest and pushed lightly. John's eyes fluttered down to his chest and took up her hands in his. "Okay, I'll leave you to it then." He said. Dropping her hands, he walked out of the doorway and left her alone to get dressed. She closed the door and leaned her head against it. "Oh John," she thought, "You know that you're killing me slowly, don't you?" Hanging up her robe, she decided to let her hair air dry and pulled her simple blue nightgown over her head. She hurried over the cold floor in her bare feet to the small room where she had left her socks. Stepping in, she noticed that something was not right. Everything was in its place, the desk, and the bed the books. The bed! The head of the bed was not at the opposite end it one was with her pillows near the desk and chair. Her night table once by her left side was now at the new top of the bed, behind her head. Books were lying on her pillow and she sat to pull on her socks and eyed them. Familiar titles of books she has read already. She picked one up curiously and opened the back cover. They were her books, from her house! Lauren had always signed the inside back cover of her books so that no one could steal them and claim that they weren't hers. Peeking out of the bottom was her favorite book ever, "Phantom". The closest thing she had to an unrequited love story in her collection. It was totally dog-eared from the many times she read it over the years, but it was well worn with love. She carefully put the rest of the books under the bed to avoid her or John from falling over them. She turned on her little lamp on the night table and crawled into bed and began at page one. Completely absorbed in the story, she used it to get John off of her mind. He spent plenty of time occupying her mind and if she didn't get a break, she might do something totally irrational. John stepped in and set a steaming mug of chamomile tea nest to the lamp. "I see you've found something you like." He commented. "Maybe the tea and a nice story will keep those bad dreams at bay for a while." Lauren looked up and held the book to her heart to show him how much she loved the book and her appreciation for bringing it to her. Her still damp hair clung to her face and framed her smile while the desk lamp lit her hair from behind, giving her an otherworldly and beautiful glow. John resisted touching her, as he had work to do and could not afford any more distraction than he already had. He enjoyed her and never wanted to leave the impression that she was a bother to him. Bringing her the books that he took from her house while he was there would keep her entertained while he worked. He sat at his desk and took a piece of paper and a pencil and began to sketch. She went back to her engrossing story and sipped the tea that would soon relax her body and mind. The sound of his drawing had become like a lullaby to her and she began to yawn around chapter five and he mind began to wander away from her story. Looking up at John through lazy eyelids, she began to let herself think about what it would be like to be healthy and get to know him like a normal human being instead of being a mute witness to what was happening around her. She'd like to have dinner together at an actual table instead of being served like an invalid in bed. She wanted to laugh, and have a real conversation instead of having to write things down or use her hands to communicate. "Although," she thought "The hands on approach is kind of stimulating!" Though dreamy eyes, she lie back on her pillow and rested her book face down on her chest. Her mind swam through images of the two of them walking hand in hand on the pier by the ocean, wind tossing her hair around and sharing a box of popcorn with the seagulls. Then, they were in the woods north of here, listening to the birds and watching the chipmunks dart around the ground while they exchanged stories about the lives they lived before they met. She would promise to never leave him as long as she lived and he would take her up in his arms and hold her as the rest of the world fell down around them.

John looked down at the sleeping woman and reached over to turn off her lamp. Still, the overhead light glowed softly on her still face, forcing John to acknowledge the beauty of that face that lay there waiting for him to bring it alive again. Lauren was exhausted and needed her sleep desperately, but he had that impulse to touch her again, just one more time before he went back to work. His arm drifted from the lamp down to her cheek and he felt it gently with the back of his right hand. Soft and warm, she never flinched and continued to breathe regularly. He hadn't woken her and he returned to the desk retrieving a fresh piece of sketch paper and began a new drawing.

Sleepy, but not groggy, she awoke and checked her watch. 10:06 am. John was gone and she sat up to grab her sweatshirt to go down to the kitchen to make her a cup of coffee. Now that she knew that there was coffee in the building, she made no attempts to hide her morning compulsion. Standing up she glanced over at the desk. There had been a sketch left on it, just one. "Maybe he forgot to put it away or take it with him." She thought. Looking at the sketch, her mouth dropped and time stood still. It was she, in the bed sleeping, with her book on her chest. Her mouth had a slight upturn in the picture, as if whatever she was dreaming about was crossing over into the waking world through her smile. Lauren didn't know whether to be flattered or alarmed. Her mind electrified, she didn't dare touch it and decided it was best to not bring it up to him. Over whelmed by the discovery, she went on her way to the kitchen to her life giving morning coffee.

"After all" she thought, "I can't make any kind of decision until I've had my coffee!" Upon reaching the kitchen, she searched the cupboards until she found the mugs and she went to work filling the coffee makers water reservoir and dumping the coffee into the filter in the maker. She plugged it in and switched it on and went and sat on a prep table to wait for it. Her legs dangled off of the table and she rubbed away the sleep in her eyes. She had no recollection of her dream the night before, for which she was thankful. After the nigh terror before, she had wished away all dreams forever. Then, thinking about the pencil sketch of her sleeping with a smile she thought maybe she had been too hasty in making that wish. The coffee maker sputtered to a finish and she poured it into her mug, unplugging the unit afraid to burn down her new home. Opening the refrigerator she saw that the milk was indeed fresh and she added it to her mug along with one packet of sugar. Stirring it up she took a deep breath of steam and silently thanked nature for this most blessed of gifts and took a sip. "That's the stuff!" she thought. Starting back to the little room, she let her left hand drag along the walls, fingering the locks on the doors. "For my own safety." She reminded herself. Peeking into the laundry room, she noticed that there was a load of clothes waiting to be folded. "No better time like the present!" she thought, eager for something to do. She went in and began with the towels. Folding them up and piling them together for washroom delivery she noticed that the washing machine was filled with dirty clothes but wasn't turned on. She got the liquid soap and turned it on, letting the machine fill with cold water before adding the detergent. Closing the lid, she went back to work on the folding. Some of her clothes, her t-shirts, jeans, socks and (jeez) bras and panties were waiting to be folded and put away. Peppered in with her clothes, were some of his. Same things, sans bras & panties "Thank GOD!" she thought. Not that she has anything against transvestitism but if one's going to do it, do it up like Eddie Izzard, the "Executive Transvestite". She believed. She folded up his clothes and put them to one side while she worked on her exhaustive collection of rock t-shirts and various shades of denim. It seemed to her that every bit of clothing she owned, was here. All except her formal wear, formal meaning once worn, apple red maid of honor dress and matching shoes. "What the hell would I need that for anyway?" she thought. I don't see any ballrooms around here!" She brought the clean towels to the washroom and re racked them, pausing to look at herself in the mirror. She looked cute in her sweatshirt and nightgown ensemble, not frumpy like she thought. Lauren ran a brush through her hair quickly before returning to her laundry. Her hair fell into waves that rode down to the middle of her back; her bangs had a Victorian curl to them, since she didn't bother to set them the night before. Giddy from the caffeine, she slid into the laundry room on her socked feet like a clumsy ice skater and began matching the clean socks. Finding most of them their proper mate, she held one lonely sock that had no home. It was one of Johns and she laid it on the folding table thinking that maybe it was in the load that was in the machine now. Looking at her items, she wondered, "Where is he keeping all of my clothes?" She didn't know where he was so she had to go hunting. There was no other unlocked room on this floor and it really puzzled her. "All of my clothes must have a place, I mean it's ALL of my clothes!" Giving up, she piled them on the end of her bed. "Maybe I'll find out when he gets back." His clothes she left neatly folded on the laundry room table. Her stomach started to protest the lack of breakfast and she headed back to the kitchen for another coffee and some eggs. Yanking out the pan from one of the cupboards, she sprayed it with vegetable oil and cracked four eggs into a bowl. Whipping them around with a fork, she was ready for her first cooking experiences since nineteen-ninety something. She poured the eggs in the pan and began to stir the m around with a spatula. "This isn't as hard as I always made it out to be." She thought happily to herself. Cooking for Lauren usually involved the microwave, lest the local fire department be called. Her eggs were cooked and fluffy and she turned off the gas on the cook top. Finding a bowl, she dumped them in and began to eat. Her cup of coffee beeped in the microwave letting her know it was ready. Sitting on the prep table, she ate up the eggs thinking about where John might be. "It doesn't matter." She reminded herself "He knows where to find me." Finishing her breakfast, she went to the kitchen sink to wash up the pan and utensils she had used, along with the coffee pot. She found a towel to dry them and put them back where she found them. Deep inside, Lauren wanted John to see how self-sufficient she was and how he didn't have to ask her to do anything because she had already done it. She didn't need picking up after like she was a child. She could do things for the both of them now. She moseyed back to the little room, a little dejected that she had nothing else to do here. She reminded herself of the key that he had given her to get in and out of this place. She would have liked to get some more things from her house and pick up a few little niceties for this place. "Since I'm dropping off of Earth, might as well charge everything until the bank takes my house." She noted.

Looking over at the sketch of herself, she smiled. No one had ever drawn a picture of her before and she was tickled that he had done so. She found her key and twirling it in her fingers, she decided to go out and do something nice for him. She got dressed in her black jeans and Faith No More t-shirt and picked out a scarf to match her black pea coat. She headed down the stairs and over to the door. Leaning down to unlock it, the door started to make a strange noise so she backed away. She couldn't see the lock anymore; someone had pulled it through a space between the door and the wall! Someone was coming! Lauren hid herself behind some leftover canisters of whatever and held her breath. The door rose and she was petrified. "I thought no one knew we were here! I thought we were alone!" The door had come to a stop in its open position and she heard footsteps. She looked for something, anything to defend herself and her home with. Finding a hammer that looked as if it had been there a hindered years, she picked it up, hoping that it hasn't lost any of its resiliency over the years. Gripping it in her right hand, she ran to the intruder with the full intention of bashing his or her brains in. Raising the hammer as she ran, the intruder dropped whatever they were carrying and held their hands up. "Lauren! Lauren, its just me!" John yelled. "Put the hammer down!" Sliding to a stop, she was immediately apologetic for the ninja like attempt on his life. She dropped the hammer to the floor and as it echoed throughout the cavernous building, she hid her shame behind her hands. John walked over chuckling at her "attempted murder" and said "Don't jump to conclusions until you have all of the facts. While I applaud you for being careful and not being seen, you should never ever attempt to take down what or whom you are not familiar with. Carelessness like that could get you killed."

Lauren hung her head a little, but she knew he was right. "What if the intruder had a gun?" she thought. "Come on now, let me show you something. You look like you're dressed to go out. Is that what you were planning?" He said motioning for her to come to the door with him. She nodded "Yes." John pointed to the garage of the warehouse down at the very end. "There you will find your car and here are your keys." He handed her the bundle of keys containing her car and house keys. "There is a keypad entry and exit to the garage and the code is one, zero, one, six. You'll need to enter those numbers whenever you leave or when you want to park your car." He explained. "If you're going just a short distance, I'd prefer if you walked. You can be more easily followed if you are in a vehicle." She had never really thought about that, being followed. He had a point. She did need it to get to her house, as it's not accessible by public transportation. She held up her car and house key, indicating that this is where she intended to go. 'You're going home?" he asked her "I'm coming back" she mouthed, since she didn't have any paper handy. He understood her and picked up the bags he had dropped during his near death by hammer experience. "I'm going to be here while you are gone. Be aware that just because you do not see me, doesn't mean that I'm gone." He warned. "I'm just in a faraway room working on something and I cannot hear you. I'll know that you have returned safely because of the alerts I have in place for our security. I will come and see you as soon as I am able to."

She was pleased that in his own weird way he was looking out for her even when he was no where to be found. Shutting the door, she locked it and watched him make his way up the stairs. Now that she has access to her car , she was happy not to have to walk across the muck that the field had become in the freezing and thawing of the ground. She walked through the warehouse in the direction that he had pointed in and there it was, her little silver Toyota mini truck. "Minnie" she called it. She got in and turned it on hearing for the first time her music in her cd player. "Music!" She thought, "I must remember to bring music!" She punched in her key code and drove off toward her soon to be abandoned home.


	9. Somebody

Chapter Nine

Somebody

Lauren drove through the streets with the windows down. Despite it being chilly outside the sun and air felt good on her face, and she was in a great mood! First stop was her house, well mobile home. It wasn't much but she didn't have to pay those big city rent prices for something just as big. Pulling off of the pavement onto the dirt and gravel road that led to her home, she thought about what she would take with her and what she had to leave behind. She pulled in to her driveway and parked taking a deep breath. She was saying goodbye to the only home that had ever been hers in her adult life. "Its just stuff." She coolly reminded herself. "Besides, why would I want to take anything with me that didn't fit in the trunk?" She got out of "Minnie" and walked up to the steps and unlocked her door for the last time. Stepping in, she nostalgically thought about the day she bought this place. She figured she'd live here for the rest of her life until the day she died. There were photos of the wall, things she would leave here for the squatters to find. Little figurines of owls, ornaments for a non existent holiday tree, some stuffed animals, nothing of any value to her now. She saw that all of her books had already been relocated. Turning to the kitchen area, she remembered the mug that she broke the other night and reached into one of the cabinets to grab one to replace it. "It's the least I could do." She thought. There was plenty of dinnerware and there was no need to add to it. Her clothes were all in her new home, the bare closets and drawers were evidence of that. He had actually taken all of her clothes. "Funny, I can't find them back there!" she laughed to herself. In all of the craziness of her leaving, she forgot to ask John where he put her clothes. The only thing left here was that apple red satin dress that she had loved for one day that now hung alone in her closet, the shoes that were dyed to match with all of the sparkling crystals sat on the floor underneath. She fingered the material and silently wished that she had somewhere to wear it one more time. It wasn't your traditional "make the bridesmaids look like shit so the bride won't be outshined" dress. It had a halter style top with a separate glamour length skirt with a matching satin jacket. It was a beautiful dress and a shame to leave it to the moths and vermin that would soon infest this place. She boxed the shoes and wrapped the dress and left it by the door. She grabbed her mp3 player with all of her music and her laptop. The computer didn't work, but she figured that if John could fix it, he could have it. It was a good place to rest her coffee but that was about it for her. She left with those four things, climbed into her car and peeled out of her dirt road, never looking back.

She stopped at a grocery store for some foodstuffs and to get a cash advance on her line of credit. Purposefully walking down the aisles, she bought whatever she wanted. No budget to stick to, no store brands for her today. She had a new fridge to fill and spared no expense in doing so. After paying the bill, she got a $500.00 cash advance. "That should come in handy at some point." She thought as she stuffed the cash into her wallet. "If I'm going down in thirty days, I'm gonna make it count!" She figured it would take a month for the bank to cut her credit line and seize her old house, so she took it while she could get it. Loading the bags of food into the frontseat and floor of her car, she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face. This was the first time in recent memory she shopped without a care and still had money to burn! To want for nothing was a fabulous feeling. She wanted nothing because she had everything. She stopped to top off her gas tank and headed over to an office supply store. She bought the comfiest looking office chair she could find and, of course, paid with a credit card. It would have to be assembled at home, but they assured her that anyone could put it together. She surrendered to the fact that she would have to build it herself and had them load the box into the car. Looking at in her rear view mirror from her drivers seat she wondered how in the hell she was going to get this thing up the stairs. Her back hurt just looking at it but she wanted to do something nice for John for taking care of her. That desk chair looked like it had seen better days and he was so prone to falling asleep in it. Lauren wanted to get back in time to make lunch so she headed for home. Home, her home, with John. Pulling up to the garage door, she got out to punch in her code and while the door rose in front of her, she sighed with a smile. She wasn't afraid to smile, not anymore. She guided "Minnie" to her parking space and shut her down. The groceries would test her stamina enough, never mind the test of strength that the chair was going to be. Two by two she carried the paper sacks of food up the stairs, across one hallway and down another to the kitchen. Six exhaustive trips later she was finished and ready to unpack and store everything. Out of breath she got a bottle of water to cool off. "Who needs a gym when you can live in an abandoned warehouse?" she laughed to herself. "Gym fees be damned!"

Lauren darted all over the kitchen putting away everything and keeping her heart rate up. Slugging back the last of the water in her bottle, she grabbed another one while making a perfect three pointer with the empty one into the trashcan. Making her way back to the car where the box containing the pieces of Johns new chair. She slid it out of the back of the mini truck and as soon as it was halfway out, it tilted down and trapped her between itself and the sticky nasty floor of the warehouse. She couldn't call for help, she doesn't even know if John could hear her where he was. She clumsily rolled out from under the box and the rest of it came crashing down to the floor flying years old dust up to the ceiling. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she coughed out the dust from her lungs to rid her body of it even if it meant hurting her throat. She rinsed her mouth and eyes out with water and waited for the dust to settle. Deciding that this was a better in theory than in practice, she searched the immediate area for something she could at least get it to the stairs with. Filthy and winded, she shuffled through the warehouse looking for a wagon or a cart to wheel it across the floor with. She finally found a dolly big enough to load the box onto and she shed her sweatshirt and cleared the boxes that were on it and clumsily pulled it over to her car banging into every desk, file cabinet and door jam along the way. Giving the box a yank, it didn't budge. "Alright you bitch, now listen to me!" she thought "I'm not going to let you just lay here forever. You are going to let me get you onto the dolly and to the stairs, do you understand? I'm trying to do something nice for the man that I lo…whoa." She stopped just short of the word "love". Getting turned on by a hot guy is one thing, but love? She was falling alright, but she hadn't actually hit the love at the bottom. She wanted to explore her feelings for John before she made any kind of hard decision about him.

"This box isn't going to move itself." She thought and kneeled down on the greasy floor to inspect closely what she had to work with. She backed up the dolly to the rear of her vehicle and grabbed an end of the box with two hands and lugged part of it onto the dolly. Grunting, she landed the rest of it flat on the dolly and raised her aching arms in a victory pose. It took her forty five minutes to get the dolly through the doorways and clutter in the offices, having to figure the angels of the passages against the width of the dolly and the box. She sat on the bottom step and rested. Looking at the dirt on her arms she only guessed at how gross her face and hair were. No matter because she had gotten the box halfway there. Thinking about the narrow stairs she decided that if this chair was ever going to get built, it would have to be done here in secret. She had wanted it to be a surprise so badly, but given her circumstances the construction would have to be done here in this grimy area. "Fine." she thought, rolling the dolly into a corner and throwing a drop cloth over it. "You've won for now, but I'll be back for you!" She walked back to the car for the items she took from her house. Making it upstairs, she dropped them on her bed and sat on the floor. She felt disgusting and she didn't want to filth up the bed. She took off her sneakers and decided that even they needed to be washed. Her muscles shrieked in pain as she got up and headed out of the door. Stopping in the washroom for a towel, she took a look at herself in the mirror. "Queen of the mud people!" she thought. In the laundry room, she started the washing machine and started to peel away the layers of nasty clothing and one by one dropped them into the machine. Wrapping the towel around herself, she walked out into the hallway bumping face first into Johns chest. "Rough day?" he asked trying not to laugh at Lauren as she stood wide eyed behind layers of grime at the unexpected meeting. "Why does he have this kind of timing?" she silently asked the ceiling as she stood there covered in guck. He looked at her expecting an answer and she didn't have one. She couldn't tell him that she was secretly piecing together a gorgeous reclining ergonomic office chair for him. Then it wouldn't be a surprise. She raised her eyelids and shoulders in an "I have no idea what you're talking about" way. He mimicked her and began to laugh. "I don't know where you've been, but from the looks of you I must have missed out on something!" Leaning one hand on the wall, he seemed to really be enjoying himself. Lauren but the inside of her mouth and finally burst out laughing at how ludicrous she must have looked standing there and leaned against the wall under his hand. Sharing their joke together for a few moments in the hallway, John could see Lauren peeking over the walls around her and waited for the time when she would throw a ladder over it.

She stood up straight and headed to the washroom for a desperately needed clean up.

It took her forty five minutes in the shower to cut though the grease but she felt so much better clean, even though her body hurt in places she never even thought of before. Turning off the water and grabbing a towel for her hair and her robe, she went over to the mirror over the sink and wiped the steam from it. She knew it wouldn't be long until she couldn't move so she quickly dressed her neck and dried her hair. She didn't want John to know that she was in agony, even though it hurt her to blink. Lugging the groceries and the box felt like her absolute physical limit, but she had to put on a good show and she prepared herself to leave the room and go look for her clothes. She shuffled out of the washroom and back into the laundry room to ditch her dirty towels in the washer to be done later. Removing the now clean but still wet sneakers, she hoped that they would dry soon, it was her only footwear. Sliding down to the little room, she found her mounds of neatly folded clean clothes still on her bed where she had left them. Closing the door, she changed into her black yoga pants, purple t-shirt and black sweatshirt. Every time she moved her body hollered at her in pain. "Who knew that getting dressed could be a test of endurance?" she wondered as she dressed. Fifteen minutes later, she was fully dressed, sans sneakers. She wanted to lie down so badly, but she knew that if she did, she would never get up again.

Putting on her watch, she saw that it way three thirty. "Lunch!" her mind snapped. "You totally blew lunch!" Smacking her hand on her forehead, she headed out and down the hallway to the kitchen. When she arrived, she saw John standing there making a pitcher of the iced tea that she bought earlier. He cocked his head and asked her if she was feeling alright. She nodded that she was fine and she tried to step confidently across the kitchen but it proved too much for her. Smiling the entire time, she moved to the prep table and leaned casually on it. Johns eyes sparkled with interest at her and he walked over to the freezer for ice. "Are you sure you're alright? Is there anything you need?" he asked her again. Nodding furiously, she maintained her story that she was in no physical pain whatsoever and didn't require any assistance. She knew that he didn't quite buy it, but he allowed her to carry on with her little play. She didn't appear to be seriously hurt and was satisfied that no one had attacked her while she was out, so he changed the subject. "You did a wonderful job at the market! I made soup and a sandwich for lunch and I want to thank you for bringing food back with you. What I am most impressed with is that you took the initiative yourself." She tried to hide her shy smile but knew by now, she couldn't hide absolutely everything from him now. She played with the fabric of her scarf and looked at the table. He made her feel good about herself and she wasn't used to it yet. He poured her a glass of iced tea and sat it in front of her. "Now, I know that you are giving up everything, your home, your identity, everything. You just took a giant step toward a life of substance, an important life. The path you tread now is the one that you were born to walk and I will walk with you for as long as I am able to." He told her trailing off into silence and looking off into the distance with the last few words. She never took her eyes off of him and patted his left arm lightly to bring him back. He turned to her and asked "Do you know how important you are?" Lauren had no idea what he was talking about, only that she wanted to be important to him in any way possible. She smiled warmly and moved her hand to his back and stroked it while resting her head on his left, shoulder in a comforting manner. It was killing her to stand this way but he was intoxicating to her. He was warm and she wanted to climb into his arms forever, but her brain got in the way and put a stop to it. She felt like her heart and her brain were in a knock down, drag out battle over her actions since she began to stay here. Rationality had worn down her sense of adventure in the past few years and her heart took a back seat in all matters. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do next. Gratefully, he turned to her and said "Thank you, Lauren." Her voice now barely a whisper replied "Thank you, John" and with that she dropped her arm as he poured himself a glass of iced tea and put the pitcher back in the refrigerator. He returned to her putting a sandwich in front of her on a dish. "Just in case you were busy." John said turning to leave the kitchen. She smiled at the gesture, and vowing to make tonight's dinner on time and knock his socks off with the cuisine. As much as anyone could that had no cooking skills.


	10. Hit So Hard

Chapter 10

Hit So Hard

Munching on her turkey sandwich that was left for her, Lauren began planning out her strategy for creating a meal. Recalling her adeptness for baking a killer pan of brownies, she turned on the oven and while it was preheating, she got the box of instant brownie mix and began to prepare what would be her crowning glory of dinner, brownies a-la-mode. Sliding the square pan into the oven, she turned to thinking about a main course.

The cuisine would have to be simple, but tasty. She started with her strengths in the kitchen. "I can boil water." She thought opening the cabinet to where she kept the "boilables" and figured that spaghetti wasn't beyond her culinary capabilities. "How had could it be, boil until done." She got the jar of sauce out of the cupboard and set to look for a giant pot. She found one in one of the lower cabinets and hauled it over to the sink and filled it almost to the top with water. Lifting it out of the sink was another matter entirely as the day's activities had certainly taken a toll on her. Without screaming, she made it to the stovetop with the pot and waited for the gas to click on and the blue and orange flame to ignite. Satisfied that she was on her way to epicurean greatness, she shuffled to the refrigerator to look for salad fixings. One by one she washed the vegetables under the tap. She thanked herself for at least knowing that you have to wash fruits and vegetables before you serve them. "I could kill us both!" she joked to herself. Finding a large knife, she went to work slicing the tomatoes, cucumbers, radishes, celery and red and green peppers working it into the iceberg lettuce in a large bowl. Lauren hadn't worked with fresh produce ever and she stepped back to admire her work. Checking for even distribution of vegetables, she heard the water on the stove come to a boil and added the spaghetti. Stirring it, she wished that there were a dining room here. She know it was silly to wish for a dining room in an old abandoned warehouse, but so far for her, anything was possible here. Grabbing two place settings from the cupboard, she set them down, not sure where to serve dinner for two. Lauren and John had taken their meals separately so far and had never really shared a meal. Lost in thought, she heated the sauce in a smaller pot and stirred it gently with a wooden spoon. "I can't serve dinner here, there's no real place to sit. Eating spaghetti on a bed is just wrong, and eating in the bathroom is even more wrong!" she mused.

Suddenly, she felt the presence of another. Spinning around, spoon in hand, she saw that John had creaked the kitchen door open. The spoon unfortunately had a good amount of sauce on it and when she spun it had a backyard sprinkler effect and there was a half circle of red sauce splattered against the wall, the door, and John. Shocked, Lauren just stood there, gobsmacked with her mouth slightly open. John's shirt was stained red with sauce and Laurens face was stained red with embarrassment. Holding up her free hand to offer up some kind of apology, John stopped her cold stepping into the kitchen. "It was my fault for startling you." The kitchen was a disaster and she hadn't gotten a chance to clear anything away yet. "I know I'm not supposed to be ashamed anymore but, my god! Look at this place!" she thought. Forcing a smile, she walked over to the wine cabinet and drew out a bottle of red wine and placed it on the prep table. John admired her choice as she went over to the cupboard for something to serve it in. "Pardon me, but I have acquired something a little special for us if you will permit me to get them." Said John. Lauren shook her head "Yes" and he walked out of the kitchen. "He didn't." she thought. "There's no way." The brownies were done, so she carefully slid them out of the oven with a few hand towels she had absconded with from the laundry room. They smelled heavenly and she tooth picked them to ensure that they had cooked properly. She fished a strand of spaghetti out of the pot and threw it up against the wall. It stuck, but she couldn't remember if that meant that it was ready or not, so she fished out another one and tasted it. It met with her satisfaction and she hauled it over to the sink to drain it. The steam blasted her in the face when she poured the water through the strainer and it felt good to her still quiet throat. She inhaled it for a moment before returning it to the pot and adding the red sauce. Stirring it all up, she took a moment and congratulated herself on not burning the place down. John still hadn't returned so she walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

Looking toward the little room, she saw a warm light emanating from the laundry room. She went with the first thought that came to her mind. "Shit! Somehow I set the laundry room on fire instead of the kitchen!" Dashing back to the kitchen for the fire extinguisher she grabbed it and ran down the hallway to the laundry room. "Shit, shit, shit, shit." She said to herself until she skidded to a stop in the doorway of the laundry room.

It didn't look so much like a laundry room anymore. There was a clean white linen tablecloth on the sorting table with tea lights dancing in purple, red and white votives on the table and all over the room, even on the washer and the dryer, which had coverings of their own to disguise their functions. Lauren hadn't been able to exhale yet as she looked back to the table. There were two folding chairs facing each other at opposite ends of the table, and just as John had promised, there sat two beautiful wine glasses waiting to be filled. "You weren't supposed to see this." She heard Johns voice from behind her. Turning to him still holding the fire extinguisher, she saw a hint of regret in his eyes. She immediately felt awful about spoiling her own surprise. She let the fire extinguisher fall into one hand and shook her head "No" and covered her face. "I'm sorry." She whispered faintly. He reached over to her and took her hand from her face and squeezed it to remind her that here, there are no regrets. Lauren smiled and squeezed back letting him know that everything was alright. She released her hand from his to go back to the kitchen to bring all of the food and dishes back. Her heart was pounding in her ears from the thrill of a romantic dinner! "Don't get ahead of yourself Lauren," she thought, "This could be a fluke and you'll get all disappointed." Telling herself to piss off she ran into the kitchen and began to place all of the items on a service cart and prep the dessert. She put the pan of brownies on a wire rack away from the oven to that they would come out of the pan easily. Making sure she had everything, wine, napkins, dishes, salad dressing, she headed back to the laundry room. John met her at the door with a wine opener and wearing a fresh shirt. "Your work is over." he said as he ushered her inside and put the bottle opener on the cart. He pulled out the chair and motioned for her to sit down. It was the single classiest thing anyone had ever done for her and her hands went straight to the ends of her scarf that hung over her chest. Forcing herself not to cover her face, she sat and watched as John opened up the bottle of wine and poured it into the glasses. Everything looked dreamy in the flickering lights and she was in a warehouse no longer. To her, the scene was one plucked right from one of her dreams, all of the colors, the warm inviting scent of freshly prepared food, and in the company of the man she was falling for. Sitting stiffly in her chair, she watched as John set the table and plated the food. She put her napkin in her lap to give her hands something to do. When he was finished, he sat across from her, the candlelight illuminating all of his facial features that Lauren had memorized a long time ago. Their blue eyes flickered at one another across the table as John reached for his glass. Lauren mimicked as she picked up her own trying not to shake and wobble the glass. "A toast" he said "To you Lauren." "To me?" she thought. "I reconstituted spaghetti and brownie mix to their natural state by adding water, I didn't paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel!" "Yes, Lauren. A toast to you, for I still don't think that you realize just how important, how special you are. You are the beginning of everything." Lauren sat holding her glass with tears starting to shimmer in her eyes. No one had ever treated her in such a way that she felt special, wanted. They took what they wanted from her physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally and left her to rot. "Your life now is better than it once was, yes?" he asked. She nodded slowly as despite her best efforts a tear made it out of her left eye and down her cheek. She was breathless, as she listened to him. "It will continue to be as long as you want it to. I have to know that you are completely committed to this life as I am. We share something that not even death can rob us of." Lauren took a deep breath and whispered as loud as she could "To us then." She smiled and waited for his response. He paused a moment and then smiled back and said "To us." Clinking glasses they both sipped and returned them to the table. Picking up a fork, she nibbled at first, waiting to see if he liked the meal and searching for signs of displeasure in his face. He never winced once as she covertly watched him from underneath her bangs. John knew he was being watched, but he didn't mind. He found her to be an adequate chef and genuinely enjoyed his meal. She took small bites being that she had to chew her food fifty times before she attempted to swallow. She passed on the raspberry vinaigrette salad dressing to save her throat from torment and found her salad tasty the way it was. The pasta sauce was a bit acidic and provided a little discomfort, but not enough to stop her from eating. She found that the wine made her head swim a little. She wasn't a drinker, not even a social one. She had witnessed the destruction of many lives due to it and she never developed a taste for it. Also, she didn't like the feeling of being out of control. The wine she bought at the store was picked at random. She knew nothing about it, but thought that John might enjoy it. Turns out, so did she. She let slip a few smiles and softened her body as she began to truly enjoy herself. When they had both finished, she stood to clear the table and had to grab it to keep from flying off of the earth because her head was spinning. "Allow me." Said John, noticing that Lauren was a little tipsy. "You don't drink much, do you?" Lauren hiccupped and shook her head "No" with a pursed smile on her face. John cleared away the dishes onto the cart. "I'm not sure if I should ask, but would you like more wine?" Lauren thought about it. Sure she wasn't in complete and total control, but she trusted John and knew that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. She nodded and held up her glass giggling. "Okay" he said filling her glass. "I'm not a warden and this is not a prison. Besides, I've not seen you smile this much since you've been with me." He emptied the last of the wine into his glass and wheeled the cart out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. She listened to the sound of his footsteps signaling his return, while she had an internal discussion. "He said 'with me ' not 'staying here'! Does that mean something? God I'm turning into the kind of woman I hate! Questioning every little thing that happens and thinking it 'means something' when clearly you don't know one way or another!" She slid her fingers into her hair and gripped. "Man, I wonder if he even has a clue that I'm this close to just jumping into his lap and planting one!" She picked her head up and too a long drink. "Everything's fine, just stay mellow and smile. He likes it when you smile. Shut up Lauren!" She heard him approaching and smoothed her hair and corrected her slouching posture. He entered and put his hand on her back, electrifying every part of her, "Why don't we finish our drinks in our room?" Lauren knew what he meant, the little room, but now it was "our room"? "Sounds good to me." she thought. He picked up his glass of wine and she stood up again, this time a lot more slowly and gracefully. Together they snuffed out all of the candles and went down and across the hall. He held the door open for her and let her enter first. Even though there was no real need to close the door, he did so because it made the room feel more intimate. Lauren went to sit on her bed but John stopped her. "No, sit in the chair." He pulled it out for her and guided her into it. He took a place on the closest corner of her bed and sipped his wine thoughtfully. "There's something that I want to share with you that I haven't been completely forthright about." He noticed her eyes widen and attempted to ease her worry. "It's nothing dangerous. Its just…well." He stopped and reached over to the top left drawer of the desk and retrieving a folder. Lauren looked at him quizzically and took another big drink. "Whatever it is," she thought, "it can't be as bad as room full of dog shit." John opened the folder and paused long enough for Lauren to lean forward for a peek. She was looking at it the wrong way so she moved onto the bed next to him, not so gracefully this time. What she saw took all of the air out of her lungs. She was looking at a picture of herself staring back at her. She leaned into John as she showed her sketch after sketch of herself sleeping, smiling, and laughing from every angle imaginable. One was her looking over her bare left shoulder, the next was the same pose only with her eyes closed, even one with her wrapped in a towel looking all filthy but laughing. She took the folder and wildly went through all of the sketches. Some had in her at the beach wearing sunglasses and wearing a loose fitting dress that was blowing in the wind. In another, she was lying on a blanket on the grass smiling as she shielded her eyes from the sun. John sat quietly finishing his wine and waiting for her response to seeing herself interpreted by him. At first, the sheer number of drawings that lay overwhelmed her in her lap. She could not believe that one person could have done all of this, all of her! She looked at John as he put his emptied glass on the night table and he turned to her, getting dangerously close to her face. "I wanted you to see these so that you could see how **I** see you." She could feel his breath on her face and she began to breathe hard, trying to control herself. "You are a beautiful and strong woman Lauren never think any less of yourself. Don't let the degenerates of this world convince you of anything else, **you** are the most important person in the world to me!" Lauren balked for a moment. Maybe she did have too much to drink. Everything in her body was screaming, "Let go! Jump! Come on, hurry!" Her mind was losing the battle against her heart and she felt every excruciating moment of it. She set the pictures aside and looked into John's eyes for any sign of bullshit. That face that she saw every night when her eyes closed looked at her with sincerity and compassion. He took up her right hand and whispered, "You are the most important person in this world to me." The tears sprang back into Laurens eyes and as she tried to blink them away, he brushed them from her face with his left hand. She sank her face into his palm and she was mere inches from his lips. "God, he's going to make me do it, isn't he?" she thought as her heart bathed in every warm word he spoke to her. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of emotions that she could no longer control. He let go of her right hand and put his left arm around her, not budging his face from hers. She in turn put her right hand to his face and he closed his eyes as they shared the same air as they breathed. She was his and she knew it, alternately, he knew she was his. They both have what they wanted. She felt a single tear on her hand and in that moment, she jumped.


	11. Falling

Chapter Eleven

Falling

Laurens consciousness hung in the air like the errant misspoken words after the end of a sentence. Then she felt the world drop out from underneath her while her eyes rolled back and she drifted down into the darkness that held her heart in its arms. His lips were light on hers while he waited for her to return from her dreamlike state. At long last her darkness was dissolved by the glow of her heart returning to life after so many years trapped by her own fears and insecurities. Her eyes refocused underneath her closed lids and she pressed her lips hard onto Johns. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his arms encircled her waist, reciprocating the pressure back onto her lips. All of the fear drained from her body as she let him caress her back and they both began to kiss each other deeply and her hands held him tightly against her while she explored her reclusive passions, now awake and alive within her. John carefully eased her back down onto the bed and onto all of his reproductions of her while she pulled him above her. Her eyes opened and set upon John as if she were looking at god himself. She stopped to study the man she knew she had fallen in love with and knew that she would do anything for him. She loved him more than any man that had ever been loved and it was with this thought that she brought him even closer for another kiss. He kissed her lips gently and began to tenderly kiss the neck that had endured so much pain and discomfort for her. She let him remove the scarf from around her neck and tossed it aside and with a kind of reverence brushed his lips upon her neck while she drowned in her emotions for him. He kissed all the way from the right to the left and began to move to her jaw line while she cradled his head in her hands. He reached for her cheek and she met his hand with her face and leaned into it. A momentary but audible cry of pleasure was liberated form her silenced vocal chords and she smiled at him. If not for John and his personal interest in her, she might have not survived the trauma and surely never would have healed so quickly. She knew that she owed him her life and she would give it to him if that is what he asked, for love can do that to a person. Their blue eyes now locked in union while they softly held one another on the bed. Her heart had been opened and she freely gave it to him, her deliverer from death to life. She could feel his heart pounding as he laid back and she rested her head on his chest. His arms remained around her and held her protectively from the rest of the world. The only sounds were the purr of the desk fan and the pulsation of two hearts meeting for the first time. Lauren never wanted this to end, the feeling of his arms around her, her head on his chest, all of it was what she had been dreaming of for years. Now her dream had been realized and she would never let it go.

The next morning her eyes creaked open and he was still underneath her head slumbering comfortably in the bed. She spend some time lying with him and listening to him breathe softly and feeling his heart beat. She had left her watch in the kitchen so she didn't quite know how long they had been lying there. "The kitchen!" she thought "I never got to the kitchen! Hell, we didn't even make it to dessert!" Gingerly, she slipped out from beneath his arm and stood to leave. Just before closing the door behind her she whispered faintly "I love you, John". She walked slowly to the kitchen and thought about what had happened between them. She checked herself for regrets but felt none. Everything that had happened, she wanted to happen and she was neither feeling guilty or ashamed of one moment of it. A first for her and she gave herself a smile! That smile slowly became a jaw dropper as she reached the kitchen. Everything that she had used to cook dinner was piled up in the sink where she had left it to crust over and take on unpleasant aromas. Vegetable peelings were rotting away on the table not to mention the scattered dinner dishes and cutlery next to them. "How did I let this happen? Oh, wait, right." She thought remembering her surrender to John. "Totally worth it." She swept up the rotting vegetation into the waste bin and tied up the bag to try to contain their stench. She thought about maybe tossing it into one of the other buildings and making it some developer's problem. After the dishes were finished, every last pot scrubbed and inch of counter wiped down, she went down to the door to the truck dock with the trash. Unlocking the door, she was blinded by the sun that crashed into her eyes. Blocking her eyes with one hand she closed and locked the door behind her. She saw a dumpster off in the distance and walked over and threw the bag into it. Turning to walk back, she noticed a car way over on the other side of the block take off like a bullet from a gun. She hoped that whoever it was, they wouldn't come around again to disturb her serenity with John. Once inside the door she double-checked to make sure that it was in fact locked and went upstairs. She nimbly opened the door to "their room" and found that John had awoken and gone. The sketches of her had been neatly placed back into the folder and put on the desk. A note had been attached to the folder cover. "Lauren: Regretfully, I must go away for a few days, maybe longer. Be assured that I have not left you and that I am always with you even when you are alone. You are the dawn of everything for me and as I will continually show you, you are the most important person in the world to me, never forget that. Keep yourself safe and be wary of anyone who tries to talk to you, ulterior motives are always at play. I'll return when I can, John. P.S. Your clothes are in the room next door. The key to that room is on the night table." She looked and yes, there was a key. She added it to the other key to the truck dock on a safety pin she has in her jeans pocket. She frowned at John having to leave her, but she didn't hold it against him. She unlocked the room next door and opened the door. It was filled with all of her clothes, all on hangers, all on large department store racks! Her shoes, the ones she figured had been stolen before she went back to her trailer for her clothes, were lining milk crates that were against one wall and large dance studio quality mirrors were all along the opposite wall. The room itself had only one light and the walls and ceiling paint was peeling from years of neglect. "My very own dungeon!" she laughed to herself. Fingering through her clothes, she came upon her red dress, still in its plastic protective wrap. Upon closer inspection, she found another note. "I bet you looked stunning on the day that you wore this." She smiled, he was right; she did look stunning that day. "Maybe I'll get just one more day out of this dress after all." she thought. Picking out the days clothes and shoes, she headed off to a refreshing shower and her memories of the night before.

Pouring herself a gigantic travel mug full of coffee and refastening her watch, she headed off to put together the chair she had bought for John. She loved her new dressing room and wanted to surprise him with his new chair when he got back form wherever he was. Navigating the stairway, she put her coffee on the fourth step and removed the drop cloth that was hiding the box. "Gonna need a box cutter for this." She thought and went rummaging through the dusty offices for one or at least a sturdy pair of scissors. Opening and closing desk drawers and searching through everything, she at last found a box cutter in a desk drawer next to a stapler and a half pint of Jim Beam. "Must have been a real bitch to work here." She mused. She attacked the box with as much strength and ambition as your average rugby player and got it open. An hour later she had the box open, the pieces lined up, the instruction booklet and a teeny tiny L-shaped utensil that the instructions claimed was all you needed to put the chair together. Sitting on the floor, she could not comprehend how the manufacturers and those damn store employees could get away with saying that it was "a snap" to assemble. "Liars, every last one of them!" She was pissed. She took a big slug of coffee and studied the instructions. If she could follow the directions on a box of brownie mix then she could follow these instructions. Slowly, she worked her way through the steps of constructing the base and the wheels, then the frame of the chair. The little instrument, the instructions called it an allen wrench, was driving her crazy, it was small and hard to deal with. Hours later, she stood up and looked upon the chair, the first and only thing she had ever built with her own two hands. She decided to give it a try and sat slowly in it, prepared to stand up at any hint of design or construction failure. Delicately, she leaned back into it, which engaged the footrest mechanism, and she began to relax. She leaned all the way back and just when the sweet smile of satisfaction spread across her lips, the footrest and the back of the chair both collapsed like one of those old school beach chairs and Lauren was in a perfect backbreaker pose. She rolled to one side, while the rest of the chair shot the opposite way up against the wall. The wind completely knocked out of her, she gasped for air while cursing herself for being careless. "What if John had sat in that chair instead of you? You'd have definitely killed him! You've got to stop nearly killing the man you love!" Her brain screamed at her. Sitting up, she surveyed the damage and grabbed for the instruction booklet to see where she had fouled up. Gathering up the pieces of the chair, she was determined not to let some silly office chair beat her. Not today. Gulping down her now cold coffee, she set to fixing her mess. Reattaching this and adjusting that, it slowly came together and she took another test lounge in it. Moving even more slowly than before, she laid all the way back and surprised herself by not landing on her ass. It worked and she took a moment to congratulate herself on her handiwork. She smiled brightly from beneath a layer of dirt until she realized that getting it up the stairs would be a real test of her maneuvering capabilities. They were narrow and had no elbowroom, never mind the room to fit a chair through. "There's a way, there's always a way." She thought. She rolled it to the stairs and began her ascent carefully tilting the chair in different angles above the handrails and step by step, eventually made it to the top. All she had to do know is roll it down the hall and into their room. She fell into an exasperated heap when she saw that the doorframe was too narrow to fit the chair through. Cursing the world, she took the allen wrench from the pocket of her jeans and re took apart the chair until she could get the pieces through the door. Taking the old chair out of the room, she thought about throwing off of the roof to blow off some steam, but thought better of it. It is Johns chair after all and not hers to throw away. Re **re** assembling the chair, she sat in it for a well-deserved rest. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was midnight and wondered if wherever John was, he was thinking about her. Leaning back she listened to the nothing that surrounded her. "Be assured that I have not left you and that I am always with you even when you are alone." She reread the note and sighed. She held the note to her chest and whispered, "I wonder if you'll ever know how much I love you."


	12. Into the Night

Chapter Twelve

Into the Night

Folding up the note, Lauren put it in her hardcover edition of Jane Eyre for safekeeping. She replaced the book under the bed and decided that the new chair needed a good cleaning from all of the dust and dirt it had accumulated on its trip upstairs. She gathered up a towel from the kitchen and as she wiped it clean, she began to think about her days here and how quickly she had grown acclimated to living here with a man she had fallen in love with despite knowing next to nothing about him. It felt like a dream that she had often about a new life in a new place. John had said that she was destined for more than she ever expected, though she wondered whatever in the world it could be. These thoughts crept through her mind while she cleaned up the chair and changed for bed. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror while she brushed her hair and set it in a topknot. Her brain had recovered from being smothered by her primal needs and she started to consider just what he was telling her. "Why am I so important? I'm just me, not royalty or from any sort of meaningful lineage, why?" she thought. Drawing the sheets back from her bed, she began to feel terribly alone without John here. She slipped under the covers and picked up her book and began to read to get her mind away from her loneliness and try to get some sleep. Somehow the comfort of knowing that John was even in the building gave her the security she needed to get to sleep and now that he had gone, her fear began to trickle back into her mind. She had lived alone for so long that as she read the note, she didn't think that it would be such a big deal that he was away for a while. It felt familiar; she had given her heart to someone who had left her alone. It wasn't the first time. Trying to convince herself that this time was different and that he would not simply abandon her she felt herself choke up like she was about to cry. She fought back the onslaught of emotions, covering her ears in hopes that it would silent the thoughts in her head of desertion and the distress that being left alone would bring to her. She shut her eyes tight in hopes of fending off the tears she felt were about to come, she didn't want to feel this, not now, not when everything in her world was perfect for the first time. No, not now. Her breathing became shallow as she battled the voices that whispered, "He's gone. You're alone now, there's no one here. You gave him your heart and look what happened, he's left you. You were better off before you came here, at least you didn't feel this kind of pain." Her face dissolved as her falling tears fell onto her pillow that she was clutching and silently screaming into. She felt like the whole world was caving in on her. Without John, the insecurity took his place and planted its foot inside her psyche. "Go away! Leave me alone!" she thought trying to push the voices in her mind "Everything is just fine and John will be back! He said he would so he IS!" Sitting up in the bed and sobbing in the dimly lit room, she finally let it all out. Her tears cleansed her soul of those foul thoughts and crumbled the voices that fed her nothing but negativity. She allowed herself to feel how she felt instead of crushing it all down deep inside. Soon, it was over and she passed out from the mental and physical exhaustion of the day. As had become routine, her last thoughts were about John.

When she awoke, she had forgotten that John was gone for the time being and for a few seconds, she felt him beside her, holding her as he had the night they had kissed. Her eyes opened and she saw that he was holding nothing more than a pillow beside her in the bed and she remembered. Sighing, she sat up and put her feet on the cold floor. "Back to reality" she thought. Her watch said 1:17 but she had no idea if it was night or day. She supposed it didn't matter because she only had to look out for herself for the time being. Wobbling to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, she wondered just what she was going to do with herself with all of this time on her hands. Filling the well of the pot, she turned it on and waited for the caffinated goodness to fill the carafe. Whipping up her famous scrambled eggs, her mind began to race to thoughts about going into town, but she remembered that John had said that it was not safe for her to be seen. Plating her eggs and filling her mug, she decided to have breakfast in their little room. She set her breakfast on the desk and sat down to eat. Fingering through the drawings of her that he had done, she admired his skill at sketching and the shadowing of each scene reminding her of the film noir genre. The play of shadow and light in precise angles were done as well as any artist she'd ever seen. "Maybe he's one of those reclusive artists types." she thought to herself sipping her coffee. She closed the folder and put it back in the top left desk drawer. Before closing it, she noticed another folder in the drawer. She took it out and set it on the desk. She stared at it awhile, knowing that what she was doing constituted an invasion of privacy, but her curiosity about John had grown exponentially since the night before and it would be so easy to flick open the folder to peek inside and maybe answer some questions about who he was. She put her right hand on it and she traced it with her finger. "Maybe he's a felon, maybe he's wanted in 27 states for polygamy, maybe I just should put it back and forget it exists." Whatever was in there, it was calling her to show itself to her. "If it was something that concerned me, he would have shown it to me." Her decision had been made and she slid the two folders back into the drawer and closed it. It wasn't an easy decision for her to make, but she trusted John when he told her that she was special and that she was the most important person in her life.

With her head on straight after breakfast, she went downstairs to see that it was indeed afternoon, and she could get outside for some fresh air. Spring was technically here, but it was still brisk outside, enough to warrant a hood. Covering her hair was paramount to not getting recognized. It was red, curly and wild; the kind of hair that attracts attention and without a wig, a hoodie would have to do. Standing in her dressing room, she brushed out her hair and tied it up into a tight knot. She covered it with one of her scarves that John had given her and lifted the hood on her sweatshirt. With no red hair in sight, she headed out.

Emerging from the warehouse she quickly donned her sunglasses. Looking around, there were truly no signs of life other than her in the whole block of warehouses. Still, precautions had been taken to disguise her well and she felt safe from prying eyes. She had some nice jazz music on her mp3 player filling her head with sweet melancholy music as she walked slowly around the district with no one but her shadow. "It's funny how you always mean to do things, but you never get around to them," she thought. "I've been meaning to get more exercise but I just never got around to it until now. I don't know what the hell was stopping me." She walked for over an hour around all of the untended to grass and up and down the roads in the district. She felt like she was on her own planet. The sun began to sink as she headed in and locking the door behind her, she yanked on it six times to make sure that there was no way anyone was getting in through it. Freeing her hair from the bonds she had placed it in, she headed up for a shower and a fresh set of clothes. The daytime wasn't so bad when he was gone; it was the nighttime that was the hardest for her. That's the way it went on for weeks. She spent her days either walking or driving to markets out of state to get the basic necessities, making sure that she was totally unrecognizable and taking walks around the district. She continued with her household duties, just as if John was there, even making extra food forgetting that he wouldn't be there to eat it. Then at night, when there was nothing left to do but go to bed, that's when she would become anxious. "Be assured that I have not left you and that I am always with you even when you are alone." She remembered his words; they ran through her mind all night. She believed every word he had told her and she was trying hard to feel his presence, but the night would drag on for her until she finally fell asleep in the early morning. Her dreams were a clutter of images from her new life; lying helpless in bed when she was too weak to take care of herself and Johns attentive care over her, the time he gave her the hatbox full of scarves as a gift to cheer her up about the scar on her neck, the laundry room makeover he created for the first time she made dinner for the two of them. Some nights she wondered if he was even real, if she was indeed insane and she made him all up. She felt his ghost in the halls as she walked, almost like god was watching over her with ever knowing eyes protecting her. Terribly lonely, one night she decided to sleep in his clothes. They held in his scent and it provided extra comfort to her that he is, in fact real and that she hadn't made the effortless drop into madness. Sticking to a daily routine helped her keep busy and forget even for a few seconds that he was gone. There wasn't a tidier abandoned warehouse anyplace in the world because of her Joan Crawford style of housework. The dishes and the crockery were stacked in order of size. The towels in the bathroom were folded and hung crisply and evenly on the towel rack. She arranged her clothes, even down to her socks and underwear according to hue. The kitchen and bathroom floors were mopped and even the locks on the forbidden doors were polished. There wasn't a single inch of the living area that she hadn't cleaned and disinfected, polished or folded. Finally, with absolutely nothing else left to do, she sat in the chair in their room and put her head down into her arms on the desk. Living with a man that barely existed anymore was wearing her down mentally and emotionally. She couldn't believe the size of the emptiness that was felt while he was away, he consumed her every thought to the point that she began to feel unwell. She was heartsick, almost grief stricken over John. She had never dealt with this kind of feeling before and she was overwrought by feelings of longing and helplessness over her heart. She had sought and fought for control for so many years, to have her resolve evaporate in a handful of weeks was shocking to her. For the first time in forever, she allowed someone to take her heart into his hands and trust that he wouldn't stomp all over it. She was vulnerable now, and it scared her to pieces.

It was dusk when she had gotten in from her latest walk. She was really putting miles on her shoes with her daily walks and she liked the new her fit and healthy, physically. Psychologically she felt like a study in lonely. Taking her key from her pocket, she saw that the lock was open and that could only mean one thing. Someone was in her house, as it was. Lauren was convinced that she locked it because she never, ever forgot. This was her home and someone had broken in. She went for her hidden aluminum baseball bat that she had stashed near the dumpster. The whole time she thought, "I don't care if it IS a cop, whoever it is better like the taste of aluminum! How DARE someone come into MY perfect existence and try to wreck it! NOBODY wreaks my life but ME!" She reached the door and opened it up enough for her to crawl into the warehouse from the truck bay. Slowly and silently, she made it to the stairs and stopped to check for movement or noises. She noticed nothing out of the ordinary so she continued up the stairs and continued down the hallway that led to their home. She tried to remember if she had closed their bedroom door or not, because now it was closed. "Dammit! I can't remember!" She thought as her grip on the bat became tighter. Reaching the door, the pool of light from beneath the closed door hit her shoes. She listened again for any sign of about-to –be-dead-burglar but there was nothing. She raised the bat with her right hand and flung open the door with her left and attacked…an empty chair. Sending it wound and round with her blow to it, she stood there aghast at herself. She took comfort in the fact that no one was around to see it and dropped the bat onto the bed. She probably had forgotten to lock the door and now she had this day of personal foolishness to help her remember to. She couldn't find a living soul in the house and so she threw on her mp3 player and swaggered to the beat of the work of Angelo Badalamente down to the kitchen for water, maybe something stronger to settle her nerves.

Then she felt it. Eyes were definitely on her, she felt the eyes of someone tickling her skin. Stopping dead in the hall, she spun around slowly and found no one there. She crept to the laundry room first because it was the closest. Flicking the switch, she entered and saw that everything was as she had left it. Taking a quick look under the folding table and in the hamper, she was satisfied that the room was burglar free. As she was about to turn off the light, she heard something coming from the bathroom. She grabbed a bottle of spray starch. She disappointed herself at her choice in weaponry, but any port in a storm! Here she was, about to find out if you can kill a man with starch she slid up to the closed bathroom door. She heard the noise again and wanted to scream out a warning to the intruder that she had a deadly weapon and she wasn't afraid to use it, even thought she was unsure about the weaponising of starch. Kicking in the door she brought the can to eye level and rushed into the bathroom, ready to take all comers! Two steps in she tripped and fell flat on her face. "Ow! My head!" she whispered but would have rather have yelled. The can went dancing over the tile and came to a stop in the shower on the other side of the room. Lauren looked over through blurry eyes and saw that she had tripped over someone. Her eyes took a minute to focus and once they did, she saw John, unconscious on the floor.


	13. Love is Blindness

Chapter Thirteen

Love is Blindness

Laurens, her eyes wide with shock and fear traveled the length of John's body lying limp and face down on the cold tile and her hand fluttered up over her mouth. Without thinking she crawled quickly to him and she rolled him over so that his upper body was in her arms. Leaning his back onto her chest she saw that he was bleeding form various cuts including one large gash in his left side. The blood from the wound pooled around them as she tried to wordlessly rouse him back into consciousness. He was breathing, but it was labored and shallow. She had to stop the bleeding, she knew that, but she wasn't exactly an expert on human anatomy. Her expertises lie in the care of injured and sick animals, but she figured that a mammal is a mammal. "First things first." She told herself. "I have to stop that bleeding." She took off her sweatshirt and rested his head onto it gently before racing to the laundry for every towel in the place. They toppled onto the washroom floor as she fell to her knees to examine the wound. There was too much blood to get a good look. She used up two bath towels just to soak up the excess that was in her way. It was deep and he needed stitches. Using another towel she applied pressure to it in an attempt to at least slow it down. She was covered in his blood and she tried to call to him, but she made no sound. As she sat there with her love wounded beneath her hands, her mind spun. "What happened? Were you in some sort of accident? Please wake up and tell me how to take care of you!" Switching out the blood soaked towel for a fresh clean one, she began to reapply pressure to the area. Wiping her tear stained face with her hands covered in blood only made her look even more deranged. Out of the corner of here eye, she thought she saw his left hand move. She grabbed it with her right hand and indeed, he squeezed her hand with as much strength as he could muster and spoke her name. She couldn't help but smile, even though she was terrified that he was going to die in her lap. John was alive, barely, but alive. She whispered "You need stitches, now!" He looked at her and weakly replied "No. No hospitals." "No hospitals? You need stitches, I can't fix this!" she replied in the whisper that had become her new voice. He squeezed her hand again and replied, "Yes, you can. I have the supplies, and" he paused and reached to touch her face "I believe in you." Hearing his words, she was renewed with self-determination. He wasn't going to die. Not today. Not while she sat by and did nothing. She took his hand from her face and placed it on the towel that held back the rush of blood that was just beneath. "Show me how," she said. He was barely coherent from the blood loss and could only talk softly now. "There's a roll of fishing line in that utility cabinet in the laundry room. There you will also find a large darning needle and a pair of scissors. Bring those here and get the antiseptic and bandages from the medicine cabinet" he commanded. She hurried around and collected the items needed to treat him properly. She got a quick look at her bloody and dirty self in the mirror and saw the woman that she had grown into because of him. She realized that nothing on heaven or earth was going to stop her from saving his life, for he was her life. She sat back down on the tile and went to work, carefully cutting away the shirt that he was wearing so that she could clean the wound and prep the area. He never took is eyes off of her as she worked on him. She drenched a towel in antiseptic and wiped the blood from his body before releasing the pressure on the wound. It was bleeding, but not as badly anymore. She could manage to stitch it up, but she had no way of anesthetizing John. She threaded the large needle with the nylon string and paused briefly to look at him. His eyes pleaded with her. "I need you to do this for me" he said. "You're the only one in the world that can help me and you're the only one I trust. Please, Lauren." She continued on and whispered "Please forgive me" for the pain she was about to put him through. She pressed the needle through the first few layers of skin and to where she needed to be to cross over to the opposite side and begin to close the wound. John moaned and fought back any signs of pain so that she wouldn't panic and lacerate anything that was already healthy and where it should be. After she got through the first one, the rest came easier. Her heart broke every time she plunged the needle into his wounded flesh; she never ever wanted him to be in agony at her hands. Her tears hit the floor and she didn't care anymore if he saw her cry, she was beyond censoring herself anymore around him. Four inches later, she was finished and she dressed the wound with a large gauze pad and taped it to his skin. Silently she began to clean and dress the rest of the various cuts on his body. He winced every so often at the application of the antiseptic, otherwise he lay still and let her care for him, as he had once cared for her. When she had finished at last, she lie on her right side beside him and put her hand to his forehead to check for a fever. "No fever means no infection, yet" she thought and he turned his head to her and gave her a weak smile and said "Thank you, Lauren" She replied "You're welcome, John" and she kissed his cheek with his blood on her lips. "You can't stay on the floor all night and there's blood everywhere. Let me help you get cleaned up?" He looked at her with his own blood covering her head to toe, looking as if she had been baptized in his name. He nodded in agreement and tried to move, without success. "Don't try to move yet, let me take care of everything," she whispered.

Fetching the plastic buckets from the laundry room and filled them with warm water and gathered up a change of clothes and the remaining bath and hand towels. Sliding the shower chair to his position in the washroom, she sat behind his head and reached under his arms to prop him up against her once again. It hurt him to move and she cursed herself for putting him in a position of discomfort, but it had to be done. She pulled away what was left of the shirt he was wearing and soaked one of the towels in the warm water and began to wipe away the blood and wash his arms one at a time. He lay limp against her, exhausted from the blood loss and the comfort of being in loving hands. The water mingled with the blood on the tile that was now pinking on the floor. Once his upper body was clean and dry, she pulled him over to the closest wall and leaned him against it so that she could cut off his pants to wash his legs. She reasoned that it was a far easier thing to do than to have to have him try to take them off himself. He put up no resistance as she cut away at his pants and removed his shoes and socks. When she was finished, she wiped the blood from his feet first, working her way up to his waist. It seemed like an eternity since she had first fallen over his body and here he was, completely naked and vulnerable in her hands. No one had ever given her trust like that before and she was overcome by the tenderness of the moment. Once he was clean and dry, she put a fresh pair of sweatpants on him and socks. Working a t-shirt over his head, he whispered to her "I owe you my life". She smiled shyly and finished getting him dressed. "Now, how in the hell am I going to get him to bed?" she thought. "Wait! I got it!" She ran to the chair she had built for him and quick as lightning removed the arms from it. She had rebuilt it three times already, what once more going to hurt? She wheeled it into the washroom. She locked the wheels down and straddled his legs to face him. He looked at the chair quizzically and she went to him and told him to wrap his arms around her neck. He did and she used up the last of her strength to set him in the chair. Unlocking the wheels she brought him to their room and helped him into bed. He was unconscious as soon as he hit the mattress and she pulled the covers up over him. He was cold from the loss of blood and she put a few extra on top to warm him up. Tucking him in, she kissed his forehead and said "Thank you for coming back to me." Running her fingers through her hair, she returned to the washroom that looked more like a crime scene. His blood was everywhere and she decided to begin by washing the towels. The hamper was on wheels thankfully and it was overflowing with bloody towels when she had finished. She started a load of wash and threw the first bunch of towels in. Refilling the buckets, she washed the floor and put away the medical supplies. Yawning, she desperately wanted a shower, but since there were no clean, dry towels, she just washed her hands and face and used a dishtowel to dry them. She changed into a nightgown that she didn't really care about because she still had dried blood on her body. Returning to their room, she replaced the arms of the chair and reclined back. She turned her head to check on John who was out cold in the bed. He was breathing and his skin was on its way to returning to a normal color. It was her turn to pay the role of caregiver and get John back on his feet and back to a normal life. As much as she wanted to crawl into the bed with him, she knew that it wouldn't be the best for him. She hadn't showered yet and she didn't want to be responsible for him getting septic or get a staph infection. He was back after all of this time and she couldn't be near him, which stung her heart. Tears stung her eyes at the maddening irony of the situation and she felt the rain come down onto her soul. Not wishing to wake him, she ran to the washroom and turned on the shower and jumped in with her nightgown on. Watching the blood rinse away from her and circle the drain she felt like someone was playing a nasty joke on her. "Why did he have to get hurt? Is that the reason he came back? Why couldn't we go to a hospital? Why did I have to torture him with my haphazard sutures?" Peeling her nightgown off, she washed her hair and her body of John's blood and just stood there letting the water pour over her as she cried. All of her emotions were at the surface now and she couldn't stuff them down like she used to. Her skin began to redden as the hot water pounded her skin so she decided it was time to get out. Her robe was still dry and clean so she crawled into it and sat in the washroom chair that had once been hers to shower in. She wrung out her hair over the sink and looked at herself, stringy haired and worn out. She combed her hair and flipped it into her usual topknot. Waking across the hall to her dressing room, she picked out the warmest pj's she had and returned to their room. Flicking off the light, she slid under the covers and wrapped herself around John as he slept. She felt his heart beating under her hand that she had on his chest and nuzzled her face into his arm. For the first time in weeks, she slept through the entire night.

The next morning, she awoke to find John still next to her. She felt his forehead and she was satisfied that he had warmed up enough for her to yank off the extra blankets. She got up and made some of the 'sick tea" he had once made for her. He made tea the old school way, using loose leaves and straining it before it hit the mug. She had taught herself to make it while he was away and she enjoyed the whole ritual of it. Bringing two steaming mugs of tea back to their room, she set them down on the desk and sat on the edge of the bed. John looked so peaceful in his slumber that she hated to wake him up but it was another one of those necessary things that she hated doing because it caused him discomfort. She reached over to his face and gently touched him on his cheek and whispered his name. He didn't respond so she got closer and whispered "John? It's me, wake up now." His eyes moved underneath his lids and his eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to her. "Hi stranger" he whispered. She traced the outside of his face with her index finger and smiled. He was awake and looked lots more alive than he did the previous night. She rose from the bed and he saw that she had made tea and he tried to sit up, but it proved to be agony due to last nights "surgery". She put his tea on the night table behind his head and she moved to sit behind him as she had him do the night before. She gently eased herself into the bed and propped him up on her chest and put her arms around him. Once situated, she handed him his tea and he sipped it. To her great surprise, she actually liked nurturing another human being. She didn't feel like she was being taken advantage of, as was the norm in her old life. This time around, she felt appreciated for the things she did for John and he was genuinely thankful for her help. He handed her the mug indicating that he had enough for now and leaned into her while she rested her hands on his chest. He took her hands in his. "I was right about you" he said, "You are the most important person in the world.. To me"


	14. Pagan Poetry

Chapter Fourteen

Pagan Poetry

John was soon asleep. She felt the weight of his body shift as he drifted off leaving Lauren alone with her mind. Her thoughts began to try and untangle the meaning of his words, about being 'the most important person in the world to him'. "Does that mean he loves me or is he simply trying to thank me for taking care of him in his own way? Maybe he needs a virgin to sacrifice but figured that solitary was good enough." There was a storm in her brain, as there was one in her heart. She cared deeply for John, probably more than she should for someone she has only known for such a short time but she could not ignore that longing she felt when she looked at him. His cheek was near her face as she held him and the pain from wanting him so badly overcame her sensibilities and she pressed her trembling lips to his cheek. Whatever he was thinking about her didn't matter as much to her as what he was feeling about her. Her mind went straight back to the moment they kissed on the bed and fell asleep in each other's arms. It was more to her than just a make out session. The passion in the room that night was real and she could feel it in his kisses that he cared for her more than just as a roommate. Caressing his face, she felt a fierce protective instinct over John, like a mama lion over her cub. Anything or anyone that threatened him or her home would have to be destroyed, no questions asked. The time that once seemed endless while John was away was now ticking by unnoticed as she held him in her arms, the timeless longing still remained to tease her heart as she fell for him a little more each time he exhaled. She rested her chin on his shoulder and wrapped her arms gently around him, with a wish in her heart that he loved her as much as she loved him, if that was even possible given how strongly she felt about him. She decided to leave him to rest while she got some chores done, lest she do something she might regret. She certainly wouldn't want to be taken advantage of in her sleep, so she extended the same courtesy to John, even though it killed her to leave him. She slid out from behind him, laying him down on the bed with his head atop the pillows. She glanced back one more time before closing the door behind her and sighed thinking "How can I tell you without telling you?"

Heading over to the laundry room, she thought about everything that he had done for her during her recuperation from that maniac that attacked her and silenced her voice. She retrieved some fresh bedding and clothing for John and left it outside the bedroom door. She thought about sewing him together in the bathroom and shivered recalling how badly he was hurt. There was so much blood, so much that it covered his body and hers. Looking at the clean floor and walls now it was hard to believe that it even happened. She was sorry that he would wind up with an ugly scar from her patch job on him. He still hadn't told her what had happened to him to cause such an awful injury. She thought he might have been attacked or in a fight, but with whom? She went to the medicine cabinet and gathered together the necessary items for his wounds and laid them all out on the tray that was once brought to her after her first shower. The same tools and antiseptics that were used for her were now being used for him to aid in his recovery. "It's so strange the way things happen," she thought. She went over to the shower and replaced the chair so that it would be at the ready when John next awoke. Making sure that there were enough towels, she went to the doorway and clicked off the light, pausing for a moment to observe this role reversal.

She made herself a light meal of grapes, apple slices and cheese with a glass of water and crept back into the bedroom. Quietly setting everything down she reached for her copy of Jane Eyre and the note he had left her before he went away fell softly onto her lap. Rereading it for the hundredth time, she could recite it by heart now if she wanted to. She looked over at John sleeping peacefully in the bed and it took her breath away. Leaving the note on the desk, she leaned back in the chair and continued to watch him sleep, letting her mind wander back again to that night she had a little too much wine and her walls cracked just enough to let him in. She knew that she wanted more, she wanted all of him. That part of her that was dormant for so long was now very much awake and it demanded for him to be with her, inside of her, part of her. Her heart beat faster as she imagined what could be, what she wanted so badly. She would be beautiful and he would be irresistible to her as she moved toward him and he took her into his arms, kissing her deeply and looking into her eyes, her very self. She would be trembling at his touch, for she hadn't been with a man in years. He would find that endearing and would take his time unfastening her hair and slipping off her dress, while she slid his shirt off. He would lower her down on the bed just as he had the night they first kissed and caress her pale skin gently while offering her his mouth on hers. She would gratefully welcome his lips and their tongues entangle in a dance of passion and love while her hands explored his chest and her fingers would impulsively slip down to his waist and relieve him of his pants while he rendered her naked in his arms. Together they would quench each others hunger and she would finally be fulfilled and look into his eyes and not for the first time whisper "I love you". Her reading glasses fell out of her hands and clattered to the floor startling her from her fantasy. "Did I say that out loud?" She tried to remember if she did or not. Frantically she took up her glasses and checked to see of John was even mildly awake. His breathing remained even and he hadn't moved since she last looked. "I'm in the clear, this time." She exhaled and drank down her glass of water trying to clear her head of those thoughts that could very easily take her over in the right circumstances. She got up to get some more, this time with a lot of ice and John stirred a little. "Oh god" she thought as she closed the door and slinked down the hallway to the kitchen in embarrassment. She made a deal with herself not to let her hormones take her over again, especially now when he was so vulnerable physically. Still, that ache she felt in her would probably flare up again at an inappropriate moment, but she would take it as it comes and ride it out with all of the grace and poise that she had, no matter how hard it was. She couldn't tip her hand now, no way. She opened the freezer door and let herself stand there until she was chilled. Cooled off by the cold air and ice water, she felt human enough to return to nursing John without getting wrapped up inside of her mind. When she entered back into the bedroom, she saw that John was indeed awake and she balked for a moment before kneeling next to the bed and offering him a sip of water from her glass. He accepted, drinking from the straw and thanking her. She set it on the desk and mustered the courage to sit on the edge of the bed. She tentatively took his right hand and whispered "How are you feeling?" He looked at her (damn those eyes!) and quietly replied "Never better." She relaxed a bit, smiling and turning away, mostly trying not to get caught up in his stare. Returning with a slight smile she was careful not to look into his eyes. "Would you like me to help you get cleaned up? " He cocked his head a bit, while she continued. "I've been trained by the best, you know." John thought for a moment and nodded. "That's right, you have. You trusted me when you were...weakened. I trusted you to treat my injuries and you have done an impeccable job thus far." He began to sit up uncomfortably and she jumped to help him by putting an arm around him. "I have the bathroom all set up if you want to have a shower," she said meekly, not wanting to presume anything. He tucked her under the chin so that his eyes would deliberately meet hers. "I've quite the little nursemaid now don't I?" he said with a smile. He moved to touch her cheek. "I like that you think ahead. It's reassuring to know that." Before she got all hot again, she replied "Thank you. Now let's go slow so you don't fall and give me something else to sew up." It was a arduous walk across the hall for him and she was with him every step of the way taking most of his weight upon herself. She managed to click on the light and he surveyed the room and was sufficiently impressed with the set up. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?" he remarked. Moving slowly, she helped him to the commode and began to prep the plastic and the tape to cover the still raw area where she stitched him up. He watched her every move. She felt like she was being judged on her technique and skill as a trauma nurse so she made every effort not to drop anything. Once everything was prepped, she went to help him off with his shirt. With flashes of her daydream assaulting her concentration, she managed to do that with out dragging her fingernails across his back, no matter how badly she wanted to. His smaller wounds were healing. Upon removing the bandage she saw that her haphazard would sutures had remained in place and looked free from infection. Relieved she applied more antiseptic and antibiotic to the gauze squares and gently applied them to the affected area with a sense of devotion boiling inside of her. "God, does he even realize that I am his?" she wondered to herself as she made sure not to let her eyes find his. He ran his fingers slowly through her hair while she mended him and her heart beat faster. She involuntarily leaned into his hand while fastening the covering over the thick gauze pad that kept it clean. On her knees before him her resolve was weakening as he let her hair fall away from his fingers. She took a deep breath and rose, extending her hand to him and helping him to stand. Together they shuffled over to the shower and she set him in the chair. Standing up to walk away, he grabbed her by her wrist, not forcefully but with purpose. She whipped her head around to protest but before she could he kissed the inside of her wrist and dropped her hand. She stood a moment before drawing the shower curtain. She figured that he would do what she did and drop his dirty clothes outside of the shower so she sat on the commode while he showered. "Such the reversal!" she marveled "Who'd have ever thought?" She tossed the old bandages and tidied up the tray finishing just as she heard the shower turn off. She hurried over to the shower and began to hand him towels discreetly. Lauren wasn't ready for it when he opened the curtain and revealed himself clad in only a bath towel. She had every intention of handing him fresh clothes just as he had, but he was a bit ahead of her this time. "Oohh!" she exclaimed partly because she wasn't ready for it and because, well, he was half naked in front of her. "I didn't mean to startle you," he said with the remaining towel hanging from his shoulders. "I was wondering if you could help me get dressed?" Seeing that he had caught her off guard, he smiled at her and she couldn't help but giggle as she fetched his clean clothes. Returning, she first helped him with a clean t-shirt. Her heart was about beating out of her chest like in those cartoons when she removed the bandage seal and she turned to grab his shorts and some comfy pants. She flushed with color as she turned back to help him with his shorts and pants. She had to keep her "nurse face" on while she did this, finishing with tying the drawstring to his pants right above his crotch. "There is no god," she thought "No god would put me though this." Helping him from the chair and into the bed, she tossed aside all of the tumultuous thoughts in her head and concentrated solely on his recovery. She applied antiseptic to all of the smaller cuts with cotton balls delicately while he relaxed. She stole looks at his eyes while she carefully cleaned his facial wounds. Finally their eyes fixed for a time while her face was inches from his. "No way," she thought "I'm keeping this all to myself." The silence was palpable in the room and he broke the silence. "Do you have a secret? It's alright if you do, so many of us have secrets." Lauren froze like a pot smoker in public "He knows." she thought. She was right, he saw it in her eyes and there was no denying now that he knew that he was more to her than a friend and he wanted to know just how much more. She tried to look away, but he wouldn't allow her to. Placing both hands to the side of her head he forced her to look at him. "Please.." she whispered. "I can't." He brought his lips to hers. "Yes, you can." he whispered before finally kissing her in the way she had always dreamed he would. She kissed him back, wrapping her hands behind his head and feeling her libido break free, she slipped into the bed with him. Tears of happiness formed in her eyes and he felt her tears against his skin and wiped them from her eyes with his hand as their tongues met and she let out a moan, this time not even caring if he heard it or not. The cat was out of the bag, she didn't even have to say it, but he wanted her to. "What's your secret?" he whispered in her ear. "Tell me Lauren, what is it?" He kissed her neck while she panted "I..I can't, I shouldn't.." she replied. His mouth met hers once again and they kissed furiously as her mind fought with her heart. He pulled away looking at her. "Your body doesn't lie Lauren. Your pulse is racing, you're breathing heavily. You have desires, but what I want to know is does your body react to what is in your heart?" He paused, waiting for an answer while she lie there safely in his arms. "I..I. I can't.. " she stammered. He put his hand to her face. "Tell me. Just tell me." Her walls gone, all of the fight in her gone with it she sighed. "I..I do, I love you John." With that, she was vulnerable to everything that love could do to her. Rejection, loss, hurt, it all came with it. It terrified her. John took a deep breath and kissed her cheek. "No more secrets?" he whispered. She replied "No, no more secrets." "Good" he said "We don't need to have secrets between us. Not when there is so much love between us." She stopped for a moment and just looked at John with questioning eyes. "Yes Lauren" he said while kissing her face. "I love you". That's all she needed to hear before she kissed him while carefully laying him on his back and bringing her body right up against his. She kissed him all over his face and neck avoiding all of the little wounds while his hands roamed her body, pulling her closer and letting fly some moans of his own. Time stood still in that little room while they were together. He was still to sore to engage in much else, but Lauren was content to just be close to him, safe in the knowledge that he loved her as she loved him. Exhausted, he put his head on her chest and they held each other quietly. She wondered if it would be like this forever, because she couldn't imagine a better tomorrow. Remembering that she was going to change the bed, she sighed. The ceiling could cave in and she wouldn't get out of this bed. Not tonight.


	15. You

Chapter Fifteen

You

Lying there in the darkness with John, Lauren thought about all of the rules she had set for herself regarding men and how so many months slipped away with her heart locked down. She had abandoned her need to be close to anyone in order to get through the day. Those days became months, and even when it had stretched to four years she didn't even notice. She hadn't noticed anything anymore, just the long days ahead of her living just inside of the world to meet her basic needs, while quietly observing the world living and dying all around her. She flashed on the memory of the night she was tortured, remembering something about living life but not actually "living life". "That's weird" she thought, shaking it away by looking at the man she now held in her arms brought her back to her bliss. John rested peacefully with her and she couldn't fathom bringing herself back to that nightmare. Slowly she drifted off to dreamland with a warm heart and a quiet mind. Hours later, she was jerked out of a deep sleep by John. He was coughing wildly and was sitting up in the bed trying to catch his breath. Lauren snapped up and put her hand on his back and tried to soothe him, but her words were no match to his attack. Rolling out of the bed, she fell to the floor and grabbed her purse in the dark and spilled all of its contents across the floor. John's coughing sounded serious to her, something that a simple glass of water wouldn't fix. Tossing aside her wallet, and various other items, her hands found her rescue inhaler that she carried in case she couldn't breathe. Her asthma was situational and she didn't often need it but she was grateful that she did as she jumped back next to John, who by this time was beet red from the inability to inhale fully. She brought the device to his mouth and depresses the medication into the atomizer. He knew what she was trying to do and grabbed hold of her hand that was around the inhaler and they both pressed it down once more and he stopped gasping for air through his mouth and began to slow down his breathing. He was redfaced and sweaty from the attack so she ran to get a cold washcloth. "I hope he doesn't have a lung infection or bronchitis." she thought hurrying through the hallway. Any kind of infection was risky this soon after "surgery" and she didn't have the medication to clear an upper respitory infection. Back beside him once again, she brought the cloth to his forehead silently and watched him while he slowly regained control over his breathing and the red in his face dissolved away. "Is there anything I can do?" she whispered while John stared straight ahead and replied "Will you bring me a glass of water?" His gaze remained fixed upon the wall as she left the room and ran down the hallway to bring him what he needed. Tossing some ice cubes in along with it, she flashed on the night she first saw him in the hallway having a similar coughing fit. "Maybe he's really sick," she said to herself. She didn't want to allow such thoughts in her perfect world, but the reality was John was older, much older than she was and maybe had a chronic illness. Walking back to him she tried not to let the worry show on her face. She paused before opening the door and put on her best supportive face. She entered and he gratefully accepted the glass of water. Sipping it, she recalled how much she relished the feel of cold water upon her own throat after her attack. She knelt by the bed in silence as a nun kneels before the image of Jesus and looked up at her savior. He reached out his hand to her face. "I'm alright now." he said "It was just a minor congestion and it has passed." He held up the inhaler. "Fortunate that you had this, and that you didn't panic and acted quickly." "Didn't panic?" she thought "What is he kidding?" He motioned for her to get back into bed and she took up all of the bed pillows and put them behind him to sit him up. She wasn't satisfied so she dashed next door for the red and purple floor pillows that she got for a song at a closeout sale and put two of them behind John. He took up her wrist before she could do anything else. "I'm alright Lauren. Now, please come to bed." The entrails of her purse were still all over the floor and she began to protest that she had to pick it all up. John glared back at her. "I said now, Lauren" he demanded firmly and laced with a tone of urgency. She obeyed and he lifted the covers for her to climb in next to him. Now she lay flat with one pillow and he was elevated above her. He put his arm around her while she tucked in under his arm still rattled by what had happened. It was cleat that he was not going to answer any of her questions tonight, so she didn't bother to ask any. She dared put her arm on his chest and she took it up in his free hand and brought it to his lips to kiss her wrist sending waves of contentment through her. He returned her hand to his chest resting her hand over his heart. She was being lulled to sleep by his heartbeat against her wishes, for she was always craving more time with him.

She stirred at about ten in the morning and felt John still sleeping with his arm around her like a child with his favorite teddy bear. Normally nothing pissed off Lauren more than morning. Having to get out of a perfectly warm bed to put her feet on the cold floor to begin a new day drove her bat crap. This morning, she was eased into a new day with the man she loved sleeping next to her with a protective arm over her body. She yawned quietly and took a few moments to appreciate him and to cement this scene in her mind forever. She let a whole hour go by before she made any real attempt at getting out of bed. She slid out from underneath his arm and he remained unconscious as she donned a robe and tiptoed out and down the hall for her coffee. Listening to the machine gurgle and steam, she whipped up some eggs and toast for them and poured John some apple juice. Adding a cup of coffee to his tray, she carefully made her way back to their room and opened the door to find him awake and trying to get out of bed. She put the tray down and went over to him. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked playfully. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at her. "You know that I appreciate everything that you do for me, Lauren." He slipped his arms up around her waist and pressed his cheek to her stomach. She reached down to caress his face. "I know John, it's alright." She dropped slowly to her knees while his hands never left her. Kneeling between his legs, she put her hands on his thighs. He smiled at her noting the boldness in which she carried herself now that her heart had been freed. "Darling, there are just something that you cannot help me attend to," he said. Sensing his meaning, she nodded. "Don't be too long, your eggs will get cold," she said rising to help him to the washroom. Once he had closed the washroom door she went back to the bedroom and sipped her coffee and letting the steam warm her face. The door opened and John walked to the bed without assistance. Lauren beamed and placed the tray in his lap. They had breakfast in bed together like a normal couple. John consumed her and he captivated her. All of her attention was turned over to him and him alone; there would never be another for her. She was made complete as if they together made one perfect world within themselves with the days and nights wrapped around them. "I have to drive way out of town today to get some more money and various items," she said "Is there anything special that you want?" He thought for a moment while finishing his coffee. "Maybe there is something," he replied thoughtfully. "How much do you know about tools?" She laughed out loud and fell back against the pillows. The last time she attempted to fix a household issue she had only made it worst. Once she regained her composure, she explained to him the "Great Flood of 2001" that nearly took out her entire home. "There was a leak underneath the kitchen sink and I had heard somewhere that duct tape was the go to for the management of any sort of emergency situation that arose." She paused a moment to gauge what he was thinking and by the expression on his face, he had already sensed that this story didn't end well. "So," she continued, "I grabbed a few rolls of duct tape and wrapped it up around the leak and it worked, for five minutes so I thought more would be better, and as it turns out I was very wrong." John was humored and he petted her head asking her if she had ever heard of a wrench. "I didn't think of that," she answered "But I did have a hammer lying around and that didn't help either." Laughing now, John just looked at his little pet and sighed. "You definitely have a lot to learn about plumbing." He was right. She would up shutting off the water in her place and taking showers at the local motel where her buddy Nina worked at the front desk and bottling water to drink. "What can I say," she said looking up at John "I make a better surgeon than a handyman." "It's fine." he replied still amused by her story. "I'll give you a list and all you have to do is hand it to the person working the counter. They will gather up everything and all you have to do is bring it back to me." She was sure that she could handle it. "Consider it done," she said swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "I'll be a while since I have to go a hundred miles out of my way, but I'll be back before dark." He reached over and stroked her back. "I'm not going anywhere," he said. "Besides, I have a lot to do." he stopped himself. "When you return, we'll do something…special" He gave her "that look", that look that made all of the blood in her body sizzle and her heart ache. She turned away before the involuntary rolling of her eyes back into her head gave her away. Sure, he knew that he was her everything, but she didn't want her body betraying her every moment of the day. Without looking in his eyes, she took up their breakfast tray and set it on the desk. "Will there be anything else?" she asked. "No. You need money." she cut him off. "Don't even think about it. I've got everything taken care of." It was true; they always had food, cleaning supplies and an ample amount of treasures that she bought at cutthroat prices at the odd estate sale or flea market. She loved taking care of him and it made her feel wanted for the first time in forever. "I've got one more cash advance before I have to change my name and social security number," she joked. "If you don't believe me, check the hatbox." She slid it out from under the bed and took out the scarves revealing her secret cache of money. He picked through all of the bundles of $20.00's and $50.00's. "There must be thousands here," he said. "Where did you get all of this?" Smiling shyly she answered, "Cash advances on credit cards that are now worth less than the plastic itself. I thought that it might come in handy." John was struck by the fact that this woman would tank her credit just to be with him and it humbled him for a moment. "You didn't have to do that," he said. "I can take care of us," he said looking through her. "Hey," she said, "it's our money in there and I wouldn't want to be accused of not pulling my own weight." Still looking past her he nodded and seemed to be in a bit of a trance when she left for the kitchen to clean up the dishes before showering and dressing for the day. Returning to their room, she found him hunched over the desk scratching something on his sketch paper. He had heard her enter and covered up whatever it was he was working on. Without turning around he held up a small piece of paper with his list of things that he wanted from the hardware store. She walked up behind him and took the paper from his hand and brought her face next to his, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back tonight. I love you John." He brought his hand to her face and turned to kiss her on the cheek. "I love you Lauren. Be careful." She squeezed his hand one more time and left for the other side of the warehouse for her car.

She loved to drive now that spring had finally arrived. She turned up the radio as loud as it could go as she zoomed down the highway with the wind whipping her hair all around. In no time at all, she was in her secret little town called Southside Branch. It was a little out of the way town but it had everything she needed. Her final bank transaction was done quickly at an ATM and she got her last five hundred dollars and tossed her card into the closest bin. It was of no use to her anymore and if anyone tried to use it they'd go to jail not her. She decided if someone wanted to break the law then they deserved what they got. Maybe then they'd learn to take other peoples things. She hurried to the little hardware store on the main street. She did exactly what John said and handed the clerk the paper saying, "I need all of this." The man looked at her questioningly and that made her nervous. "Well?" she said. He scanned the page and nodded. "Yeah, we have this stuff. I just don't know what a pretty gal like yourself would need with…" "Hold it right there pony boy," she interrupted. "Does it really matter why I need these things when you're getting a cash sale?" she tossed a bundle of cash on the counter. "Uh, no miss, I'll just be getting your items now." He hurried off in search of what was on the list. "That's right" she thought, "You don't mess with Kramer woman!" She stood horrified at what she had just thought. "That never happened," she rationalized to herself. "It was a slip of the mind, it's all the fresh air, it's…oh never mind." She gave up and resolved to never ever say that out loud. To anyone. Ever. The clerk returned with a cart full of tools, and boxes of metal parts that for the life of her could never identify. She paid for the items and offered him a $20.00 bill to load it into the back of Minnie for her. He gladly did so and thanked her for the business. She nodded and drove over to the market for groceries and then over to the drugstore for personal care items. She stopped at a little flower market and bought some fresh lilies and a purple vase to put them in. It was her one splurge, she loved fresh flowers. On the long drive home she thought about how much more relaxed she was now that they had shared each other's secrets. John was right, there was no need for any secrets to come between them and a full disclosure policy was the right way to handle things. The sun was setting just as she reached the warehouse district. She pulled her car in and locked the door keeping them safe and protected from intrusion. She made several trips with the grocery bags and the stuff from the drugstore. Once everything had been put in it's home, she prepped the flowers for the vase. Slicing through the bottoms of the stems, she carefully avoided all of her fingers. She filled the vase and set the stunning white flowers in it. She carried it down the hall to the bedroom and opened the door to find it empty. There were no papers on the desk and no sign of John anywhere. She set the flowers down and made her way back to her car to find that the trunk had been emptied of all of John's things that she bought at the hardware store. She looked around nervously, trying to find any signs of a break in when she heard footsteps and saw the shadow of a man coming toward her. She didn't make a break for it, instead walking toward him to meet him in the middle of the room. It was John, dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a white button down shirt, and a black blazer. It was the first time she had ever seen him in anything other than sweats. They met and he took up her hands in his. "I took the liberty of emptying your car of my things since you were so kind as to get them for me. Besides," he paused long enough to kiss her hands. "I have something for you, something very special and I hope that you like it."


	16. Christian Woman

Chapter Sixteen

Christian Woman

Dropping her left hand but continuing to hold her right one, John led Lauren slowly to her dressing room. "What are we doing here?" she whispered as he flicked oh the light switch. It was her dressing room, no more, no less. She turned to him. "Very funny, but there's nothing even remotely close to a surprise in here." She was right. Her shoes in a pile in one corner, milk crates stacked with the top facing outward she was using for shelves and all of the contents of them still in disheveled order. Her clothes were neatly hung on the rack he had given her. She made sure that she took great care of her clothes as she always had. Before living here, she was never sure when she was going to be able to get decent clothes that fit her, so she took meticulous care of what clothing she did have and treated them as if they were the last she would ever wear. Simply because she was no longer living hand to mouth didn't mean that she had to slack off. John looked into her eyes and whispered, "The game has only begun."

"Game?" she thought "What the hell does he mean 'game'?" He moved his hand over her cheek and put his palm against the top of her neck and slid his fingers into her hair and gently tugged near her scalp sending her head voluntarily back exposing her neck. She tried not to let herself fall apart into a big pile of girl mush but he was making it very difficult. "Tonight, I think you should dress the part." "For what?" she barely whispered, her bottom lip trembling from his intensity. John brought his face to her neck while tugging away the scarf that modestly hid her scar from the world. "Do you trust me?" he said with his voice dripping against her neck making it difficult to concentrate. She managed to eek out "Yes! Yes!" She was savoring this moment of biting passion between them. "Then if you trust me, you will so exactly as I instruct, yes?" he said dangerously close to bringing her to the edge between control and total submission. Without a thought, she threw herself over the cliff. "Anything," she said with her eyes closed and the feeling of weightlessness overtaking her, "I love you John!" She brought her hand to the back of his head and tried to pull him close, but he resisted her, bringing her head forward again and level with his. Looking deep into her eyes as if he was searching her soul for any type of deceit became thrilling for her. She had never felt this emotionally naked before someone in her life and it turned her on. If she had the ability to stop time, she would never end this sweet torture he was putting her through. He pulled back finally and looked at the floor. She waited on pins and needles for his next words, while he effortlessly played with her. "Will you do me the honor of meeting me in two hours on the roof?" He paused for a beat "Looking your very best of course." He handed her the dress and she took it holding it close to her body. It seemed like a harmless request to her, so long as he didn't try to throw her off of it.

It was an unseasonably warm evening and John had vehemently summoned for her to meet him in just a few hours. Taking a quick look at herself in the mirror she thought that maybe it wasn't enough time for her to look, as he once put it "stunning". "This would be a totally inane thing to do if anyone else asked me to put on an evening gown to meet them on the roof," she thought "Is this what love does?"

Stepping out from the shower and gliding into her robe, she set her hair in curls in the back and used a round bristle brush to get that 1940's glamour look that she loved. Delicately applying her make up, she thought more about what the surprise could be. "What kind of a surprise could you give someone on the roof of an abandoned warehouse that doesn't involve a big splat at the conclusion?" The big knot inside of her chest gripped her tightly while she set to getting dressed. Gliding into her dress and donning her favorite matching shoes, she looked into the full-length mirrors in her room and almost didn't recognize herself. She began to remove the curlers from her hair and the soft waves that fell over her shoulders gave her face a celestial look, almost angelic. She hadn't bothered with her make up in a long time and she felt a little out of practice but she liked what she saw, a beautiful woman dashing off to meet her lover on the roof. She giggled quietly to herself of her romantic sensibilities and walked deliberately to the stairs. The roof was about eight flights up and she carefully navigated them in her dress shoes, holding up her skirt to avoid dragging the exquisite material on the filthy stairwell. Finally reaching the door, she took a moment to quiet the whirlwind in her mind. She had said that she trusted him and she had to trust that she would remain physically intact and that she was safe. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out onto the roof. There was a gentle breeze and darkness had wrapped itself around the city. Her eyes adjusted themselves for her to notice the white votive candles flickering in their protective glass holders on either side of her, forming a path for her to follow. Her eyes followed the candles into the distance and saw John standing there saying nothing, just allowing her to come to him. Once their eyes locked, they never moved away from each other. She took one slow step after another in perfect rhythm, watching his face glow in the candlelight against a backdrop of the city lights twinkling in the dark. Stopping a few inches before him, she waited for John to make the next move. John looked at her from head to toe before he began.

"I can tell by the look on your face that it is alarming you to be up on the roof. Let me remind you, I've told you before that you are safe here and 'here' includes the roof." Lauren exhaled a bit and let the knot in her chest loosen up just a little. Staring up at the face of the man she had emotionally given herself to, her breathing became short as she hung at the end of every word, completely obsessed with everything he was. He continued, "You have become very important to me and you should know that by now. There are things that without your assistance would have been and would continue to be impossible and out of reach, things…that I need from you. Because of your patience and ultimately your trust, my life…my work will continue." She didn't fully understand what he was talking about. "His work?" she thought, "What work?" She allowed him to continue uninterrupted. "That's why you're here," he said putting a soft hand on her face "Will you continue to help me? Will you continue to carry forward with me and be a part of my…my endowment to the world?" He pierced her hard with his stare and his eyes commanded an answer from her. Meanwhile her eyes danced in their confusion between what exactly he was asking her to do and how she could ever say no. The breeze picked up and blew her hair across her face and he moved it away so that he could look at her face unobscured, twitching and torn between her common sense and her human desire to be loved. There was so much noise in her head now, voices pleading with her to run away, to stay, to give up and to give in. She shook her head trying to clear her mind, she had to answer now. He wouldn't let her go without one. Looking into his eyes, and blinking away a tear of doubt and letting it splash at her feet she managed to eek out "I will." "Are you absolutely sure? Because once you agree to this, there is no turning back, no running away. If you do not want this, if you do not want to be part of a legacy even larger than you can imagine," He outstretched his arm to the door on the roof "Now is the time to leave. Leave now and you will never see me again in this life. You will go back to your own life and I will never attempt again to contact you…it is your choice alone to make." The thought of being on her own again, without him was alien to her now. It was the first time in what felt like forever she considered leaving what she now considered home and never seeing John ever again. She looked at the door and knew that there was no way her heart would ever allow her to do such a thing, not now, not after all this time in his world. She turned back to face him and with a firm resolution in her voice said "Yes John, I want to stay and help you." John took in a breath and was satisfied with her answer. "Now that you have agreed, it's time." "Time? Time for what?" she muddled in her head. The inquisition had left her a little dizzy so John put one arm around her waist and led her back to the door and held it open for her, motioning for her to go down the stairs. She began her descent as he walked behind her with his hands on her creamy white shoulders. She trembled and he could feel her under his hands. "It's alright now," he whispered soothingly "The hard part is over." At the door that leads to their living area, he held her for a moment and whispered on her neck "You have given yourself to me in your heart and in your mind. Now it is time to begin the next chapter of your awakening." She was half excited and half scared to death and it thrilled her. Not daring to turn around she opened the door and stepped into the hall. He let the door close between them. Frightened that he had left her, she pulled on the handle and shouted his name. The door was locked and he was gone. She held a sob in her throat and tried to force the tears back. "Why?" Her heart cried out "Why would he put me through all of that and just leave me here?" She stomped down the hall into their room and threw herself into the desk chair. Frustrated, angry and heartsick she began to ransack the room, throwing shelved books, tearing up sheets of paper and flinging open the desk drawers. "What the fuck is happening? He wants everything and nothing from me!" Her dress was tear stained and wrinkling in her madness but nothing mattered to her now. She tore open one of the desk drawers with both hands so hard it crashed against the wall behind her. Papers and files rained down upon the floor and she fell on them pounding her fist on the floor. She wiped her tears from her face, smearing her make up all over and her eyes focused on one of the sketches. It looked like a mechanical alien. All of these gears and strange sharp edges, it reminded her of the monsters in her dreams. She slid the papers around looking at one after another of the strange drawings of metal objects. "Machines?" she thought. She had never seen anything like this in her life. Black tears dripped onto the papers and she gathered them around her. She had calmed her breathing now and scanned the room at the mess she had made. She didn't care, just like he didn't really care about her. She rose from the floor and opened the door to go wash her face. She gasped as she saw John standing in the doorway looking at her in her delirium and froze. He hadn't left her. She had jumped to a conclusion without thinking it through. She felt like a child standing there among all of the debris after her tantrum. She couldn't even look him in the eye in her shame. He cocked his head a little. "Redecorating?" She wanted to die right there. Let the floor swallow her up and let her disappear. "I..I'm..s-sorry" she sputtered "I-I.." He took her by the upper arms and pushed her back into the room. Tossing aside the books and papers on the bed, he sat her down. "I can overlook this type of behavior this once, but I want you to know that such emotional reactions are unnecessary and are the result of mistrust and disloyalty." She felt like a fool. "Go and clean your face and when you return, we will continue." She shuffled across the hallway in her totally ruined dress and mussed hair. Water stains on the fabric didn't bother her anymore; he had just seen her at her very worst and was ashamed beyond belief. She cried into her hands as she washed off the mess on her face that not just a few hours ago made her look like a bombshell. Drying her face and looking into the washroom mirror, she felt like she looked like a homeless prom queen. Returning across the hall she creaked open the door and all of the papers and books and been put in a pile on the desk and John sat in the chair waiting for her to come in and sit down. It was all on his face and she obediently did so and sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, her knees higher now in her heels. "Do you feel better now?" he asked. She nodded and looked up at him with her pleading eyes thinking, "I'm so so sorry, do you still love me? Please say you do." He looked down upon her and took up her hands. "Now, I'm sure that this will never happen again will it? She shook her head and said "No, never again. I promise." "Good then, now we can continue." He joined her on the bed and put one hand on her back and one to her face. "You're a very passionate woman, and I see that in the way that you rearranged the room. But that's not how someone like you should be expressing it. In fact, I believe that you haven't expressed it in a very long time, have you?" She stopped and thought, "If he's talking about sex, he doesn't know the half of it." She shook her head no and whispered "Five years." Even he had to be shocked, the very thought of such a thing. If he was surprised, he never showed it. He embraced her and she let him put both of his arms around her. She felt like she was home. That nothing bad could touch her, not even her nightmares. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his strong arms around her and she sank into him. He guided the both of them back onto the bed and she put her head onto his chest. He caressed her face and whispered to her, "It's time now." She looked up at him and allowed him to roll her to one side to unzip her dress. Silently, she accepted his rough hands softly moving to undress her. The straps of her dress were falling from her shoulders as she rolled back to begin to unbutton his shirt. Her hands fluttered as she exposed his chest and he slid his arms out. He continued by deftly and with great care removing her dress and slip. She lies there in just her dress shoes and her panties while he carefully moved on top of her. She caressed his face and chest as he hovered over her before he moved in to kiss her deeply. She was wild with craving for him as she accepted his tongue into her mouth. She began to make little noises of satisfaction and gratification at this physical contact that had been so long denied to her by anyone, let alone someone she desperately hungered for. His hands began to explore every inch of her and she cried out for every touch. She felt his mouth on her neck and threw her head back to allow him greater access to it. Without even thinking, she reached down to unfasten his pants and he helped her by sliding them off and returning quickly to lie close to her and feel her undulate underneath him hot with lust and love. Lost in his own physical desires he tore away her panties and began to gratify her needs with his hand. She sharply took in a breath as he first touched her lightly and cried out for him not to stop. He glided his fingers into her and felt her hot and tight around them. She buried her face into his neck and moaned with ecstasy at the way he manipulated her with such skill and effectiveness. She rocked her hips and the world fell away from her as she reached her peak and called out his name over and over. John watched as it crashed over her like a wave as she called out to him. He couldn't help but to be touched as this woman begged for him as no one ever had before. Her eyesight returning to her, she looked up at John and smiled, grateful for every moment. He whispered to her "You're ready now, ready to trust me, ready to have me, to have us." "Yes," she whispered "Please." He moved on top of her and put himself at her entrance. "This is going to hurt a little I'm afraid," he said "I don't care, I want you John" she answered. She but her lower lip as he began to fill her and slowly and carefully began to go deeper into her. She cried out at the pain but clung onto him like a life raft in this sea of pain and pleasure. He moaned at the remarkable tightness of her and had to keep himself from going too fast so as not to hurt her. He tore into her slowly and she gasped with every little bit of him inside her. He kissed her face lightly and brushed away her tears of pain. "There now, it's alright," he said. She looked up at him and had never loved him more than she did in that moment. He began to pump in and out of her with an increasing pace and she wrapped her legs around his waist urging him on. She could feel him stiffening even harder now, signaling that his peak was imminent. It made her feel so beautiful to have him inside of her, wanting her. He stopped suddenly and asked her "Are you ready?" She breathlessly nodded and said "Yes John, I'm ready". "This is our future. We will be linked forevermore if you say yes, so I must ask you once more, is this what you want?" She took up his face in her hands and this time looking straight into his eyes said "I'm yours John. I am YOURS." He pumped her furiously now and they both built up and peaked together in a cacophony of moans and screams as she felt his seed hot inside of her. As the waves shuddered through them they held each other close and savored the moment. She would never leave him now. Nothing would ever come between them again, she wouldn't allow it. She had given herself to him in every way now and would now allow him to mold her into the perfect companion and lover. Her trust in him would be legendary, she lived for him now.


	17. Possibly Maybe

Chapter Seventeen

Possibly Maybe

Lauren lie there in the arms of heaven, afraid to breathe for fear that it was all just a wonderful dream. One of many that she had been plagued by ever since she had begun her new life here. For so long she had fantasized, daydreamed, and finally, here she was. They had made love like no two people in the world ever dreamed about. Her heart was so full of love and her body had been satisfied to the fullest extent possible. She moved her hand over John's chest to feel his heartbeat as their spirits commingled and their bodies rested together in a shared physical and spiritual satisfaction.

He guided her face to lay her cheek on his chest, as he was so worn out from the evening's events that he did not wish to show her any signs of fatigue. His face said it all. He was pale and looking rather dizzy even though he fought it every second, he could not fully mask his pain and groaned a little when he tried to move. Her head shot up and saw that what was in his eyes was indeed pain and she put a hand to his moist forehead. She thought he felt clammy and asked, "Are you alright?" Looking away toward nothing he replied quietly but firmly "Yes, or rather I will be." He motioned his hand to the door. "Would you mind doing me a small favor and getting the two white medicine bottles from the shelf in the washroom?" She thought nothing of the inconvenience and rose to grab her robe and scurry across the hallway to the washroom. Grabbing the medicine, she also filled up a glass of water for him and added one of her favorite things in the world, a purple plastic bendy straw to it and returned to his side. She set the items on the night table behind him and instinctively helped him to a seated position in the bed. She opened the bottles for him and he dosed out himself the pills into his hand. She even brought the glass of water to him and put the straw into his mouth so that he didn't have to move beyond what was absolutely necessary.

John still looked unwell as he lay back down and he felt her concern. Patting the mattress next to him he invited her into his arms once again, still staring off into space. Always on point to receive any invitation to be close to him she slid slowly in, trying not to jostle the bed too much. They said nothing and she was content to wait until he spoke to her. He was so glassy eyed that she worried for him and wondered what could be the matter. Between her breathless concern and his rigid face trying to beat away the pain, the room was tense. She silently begged him to return to her from his place of agony and promised to care for him until the end of time.

After about an hour, his eyes creaked open and looked through the woman in his arms. Seeing that she was awake but unflinching at his side, the memory of their night together trickled back into his minds eye. She had been everything that he had hoped in his heart she would be. He knew that her insecurity would be overcome with time and that her tremendous love and ultimate trust in him would ease her mind. He began to stir and she looked up at him. She whispered "thank you" to herself as she saw that he was awake now and that the color was returned to his face once again. She sat up on the mattress and looked him over, satisfied that he was feeling better. "I..I was…worried.." Her voice trailed off into a whisper. "I know," he replied patting her hand in his. "I promise you that I'm fine now, thanks to you and your TLC." She knew that it had been the medicine in the bottles that had made him better but she took the compliment and smiled.

"You will find that as you get older my dear that sometimes when the heart and the mind are strong, the body may not be as cooperative." She nodded and felt his forehead again. John grabbed her wrist and peered into her widened eyes. "For someone who has never had anyone to take care of, you seem very adept at it, almost as if you had children." He spoke with deliberation and it made her very nervous. She felt like the pupils of his eyes were trained on her very soul. She always felt nervous when he would speak this way to her. It was clinical and almost cruel. "He knows I have no children," she thought. "Maybe this is one of those backhanded compliments". Just as quickly as he had taken up her hand he let it go again his eyes blinking and shifting to look away. She drew back her hand, and looked to her palms and replied weakly, "Well, I suppose it's because I've never had anyone worth taking care of before. All those maternal instincts had to go somewhere, right?" She bit her lower lip and tried to make a smile appear on his face as easily as he did for her.

Carefully she reproached. "Can I get you anything?" she inquired. John shifted in the bed and looked at her warmly. "It's been a long night Lauren. My greatest wish right now is that you return to bed next to me and we have a good long rest" he replied. He was right; it had been a long night and a lot had happened. Sleep was what they both needed right now and she was more than happy to yield to his request. John tucked her under his right arm and she cuddled right up close to him resting her free arm on his chest and he took up her hand in his left.

"Is there any more perfect moment than this?" Lauren thought as she stretched her arms over her head and sighed. Morning had arrived and she turned her head to look upon her lover and in doing so, her smile came. John slumbered away lost in his own dreams and the blissful painless sleep. She studied every detail of his face, every laugh line, every wrinkle, every pore. He was beautiful to her, her heart swelled as she drown in his every breath. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was calling for her to rest her cheek upon it. She allowed her beloved this occasion for needed rest and tucked the blankets up underneath both of their chins and she snuggled into the bed. She dropped her hand down from her waist to the mattress, startled to feel his fingers were resting there. Johns breathing remained steady so Lauren slowly and with great care intertwined her fingers with his. She closed her eyes and let the dance begin in her head of the two of them reaching out for one another in a cascade of desire and satisfaction. She drifted away slowly to dream and began to instinctively let her head fall into his shoulder, her heart knew that her safe harbor lie with him.

The next time she lifted her head it was early afternoon and she had slept the morning away. Turning over she found that John had gone leaving her alone. She grabbed her robe and headed for a nice hot shower. When she opened the door, a familiar and delicious scent tickled her nose forcing a satisfied smile. That intoxicating aroma of percolating coffee had trickled its way down form the kitchen. She surmised that John had started a pot while she was still asleep. She scrubbed the last vestiges of sleep away and fixed her hair with a fair amount of speed so that she could get to her blessed coffee and thank the man who made it.

She hurried down to the kitchen her still damp hair dripping onto the floor and arrived to find that her senses did not betray her and that there was indeed fresh coffee and even a box from the bakery down the street containing blueberry bagels and cream cheese. She picked up a bagel and it was still warm from the shop and looked around for John. She smirked. Remembering that not too long ago she had a total immature shit fit just yesterday about this very thing, she wasn't going to let him fool her twice. She poured herself a coffee and ate her breakfast sitting on the prep table in the middle of the kitchen. Content to her situation, she poured herself a third cup of coffee before turning off the percolator and rinsing it out before leaving. Clicking off the light she ambled down the hallway, refreshed from her shower and awakened fully by the coffee she looked forward to a brand new day. She loved this feeling that was at first totally jarring for her. She never really looked forward to the beginning of a new day. There was the years familiar feeling of "must get out of bed…must work…must deal with world" but never an optimistic view of a day such as she was having now. Where once nothing remained, now there was the future, her future with endless possibilities.

Walking by the laundry room, she snatched whatever was on top of her "clean" pile and went into the bedroom. Changing into her black gypsy skirt and purple peasant shirt, she donned her ballet flats and finished her coffee while flicking through a book left on the desk. Realizing that it was The Physicians Desk Reference book, she clapped the cover onto the pages in a hurry. "No one needs to see that first thing in the morning!" she thought. Pushing the book away, she opted for one of her biographies instead. She was deep into the story of the high-class drama between two of the worlds biggest egos ever born cast into the lead roles in the film "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" Lauren was so engrossed she never even noticed that the door had opened behind her and she nearly hit the ceiling when she heard a mans voice directly behind her. "Light reading?" quipped John. She paused a moment to catch her breath and playfully pushed him on the chest with her fingertips. "Damn you!" she said, trying to be loud, but because of her throat could not speak any louder than her indoor voice. It sounded more like a squeak of a mouse than the voice of a woman. John put his hand to his ear and teased, "What was that? I'm sorry but you'll have to speak up." Exasperating her further her jaw dropped and she gave him the "how dare you" look but couldn't keep it together and began to giggle through her mask. She finally just collapsed over laughing into his chest while he chuckled at her theatrics and patted her on the head. "I really didn't mean to sneak up on you. I thought that you had heard me coming through the door," he explained while she composed herself. "Its okay" she whispered, sensing a change in her speaking voice. "Oh," John said with concern in his eyes, "You've strained your voice, poor girl" It was true. She had been slowly gaining back her full speaking voice and now she sounded as if it was day one of being under his care. She flashed on those days of being bedridden and unable to speak. Being fearful of this stranger that had shown compassion and dedicated his time to caring for her well being. She sighed, but still her smile remained because at least this time around, she had nothing and no one to be afraid of.

She shrugged her shoulders and sat on the edge of the bed looking up at him. He smiled down on her and took up his desk chair. Moving himself between her knees he put her hands in his. "It looks like you're my patient once again," he said. "Do you like playing doctor?" She asked. "About as much as you like to play nurse" he replied. He had figured out that Lauren enjoyed the role of nursemaid to him and wanted to see in her eyes the moment that she realized it too. In an instant she blushed and tried to look away but he stopped her face lightly with his hand and said, "Don't look away from me, you want to look away but may I suggest something else?" He was forceful, yet gentle and he guided her face back to meet his eyes. "We talked once a while ago of shame. Do you remember?" She nodded that she did and he continued. "Shame is only necessary when you do something shameful, not when you feel compassion for another human being. Don't ever feel shame for empathizing with another person. It is a character trait that I've seldom seen much of anymore. People run though life like it's a sprinting contest and the one who finished before all his peers is declared the winner, when really it is the winner who has lost his own race in the end. Death makes losers of us all…eventually. It's how we choose to live our lives, what we do with our lives that is the deciding factor, not what we have at the end."

She let that thought sink in and her eyes twinkled with this new insight. She liked listening to his wisdom and how he made it all sound so simple and obvious. "Do you understand?" he asked and she nodded "yes" as she couldn't tear herself away from his powerful stare. "I knew you would," he said as if he wasn't sure. "Now, let me look at your throat." She obeyed and opened her mouth to let him look with a flashlight at her tore up throat. "Say 'ahhh' for me please," she did and it didn't sound like she was saying anything at all, more like a cross between a whisper and a shriek. "You can close now. Its appears that you haven't done any serious damage but you are going to have to take it easy on the talking for a few days I'm afraid," he instructed.

He touched her face, as he knew she was fond of it and she leaned her cheek into his palm. She loved the warmth of his hands on her skin and she relished every moment that they were in physical contact. He got up from the chair and joined her on the bed and all it took was for him to put a comforting arm around her and she fell into him and he took her down to the mattress and caressed her face while her hands crawled over his chest. Brushing back her hair, he kissed her first on the forehead then moved slowly over her cheek and finally meeting her eager mouth they kissed intensely. Clothing was soon discarded to the floor and she was lost once again in his skillful hands and she bathed in the love that he poured all over her. She in return silently covered him head to toe with love and gratitude. Respecting her forced verbal uncommunicativeness, he spoke not with his own voice but through his movements and more important to her, his eyes. The silent climax of the two left them both trembling in one another's embrace as they lay together in that void that exists between lovers where even time takes a pause for perfect love.


	18. Unravel

Chapter Eighteen

Unravel

Lauren awoke the next day by herself. She sat up and rubbed her eyes remembering the bliss of her very passionate weekend. With a sleepy grin, she checked the clock and saw that it was the afternoon. Beside it lay a note card from John explaining that he had some "personal business' to attend to and not to expect him to return immediately. She furrowed her brow and wondered why he hadn't said when he would be back. She chuckled to herself thinking that maybe John was one of those eccentric billionaires that lived meagerly and squatted in a warehouse district that he owned outright just because. "Ha! You've really got cabin fever now, girl!"

She hurried through her usual wake up routine and couldn't stop smiling to herself about giving her, what she called her "self-induced re-virginity" to someone that made her feel like he had waited a lifetime for her. Sitting on the bed putting on her shoes, her eyes wandered over to her camisole hanging from one of the desk drawer handles. Blushing, she reached over for it and noticed that the drawer hadn't been closed completely. It was the drawer that she had once found the sketches of herself that John had drawn. It felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at the same time remembering how wonderful he was to her that time. That night, she really had felt as though she was truly home. "I wonder if they are still in there," she thought to herself wanting to relive that night over again in her mind. Tentatively, she slid the drawer open and there was the large envelope that contained her precious pictures. Unfastening the clasp her fingers quickly opened the top and poured the papers all over her bed so that she could see them all at once.

Her smile faded slowly as she recognized that these were sketched indeed, done in Johns hand, only they were not of her, not even close. She picked up one sheet and didn't recognize what it could possibly be. Lots of corners, sharp angles, gears and motors. She tried turning it on its sides and upside own, but no matter how she held it. It looked mechanical almost like it could take on a life of its own. Another revealed a sketch that while just as puzzling to her. She couldn't quite make it out but it looked to her like the design for some new kind of rocking chair. She shook her head and gathered up the papers neatly and scanned them quickly. One was done entirely in shadows with one "X" on it. Another showed her the image of a shackle with a chain on it that appeared to be attached to a pole.

"I've seen some strange art before but these…well, I've seen worse" she decided and slid them back into the envelope and tossed it back into the drawer. Closing it she thought about those drawings of herself. "They have to be around here somewhere," she concluded. She stood up to go out for groceries and general cleaning supplies. Pausing only to strip the bed and throwing them into the laundry and fetch clean ones and tossed them onto the bed to do later.

Locking up the garage door, she climbed into "Minnie" and soaked in the sunshine so strong now in late spring. With her windows rolled down and her stereo turned up to eleven, she headed onto the state road that took her about eighty miles out beyond the limits of the district. These weekly road trips in the stunning weather were a pleasure for her. There she was just her and her head full of happy thoughts and flashes of the past few days plastering genuine smiles onto her face. The fresh air and sunlight invigorating her already love drunken self, made her spirit soar beyond whatever limit she once thought possible.

Despite her happy day, she once again found herself alone that night, and for many nights after. She tried to keep a positive attitude about it and was secure within herself that he would never abandon her completely. Sometimes at night, she found herself missing him and wearing one of his shirts to bed just to feel that he was near and that she wasn't alone.

The next afternoon, she was returning from hauling out the garbage to the dumpster and found that the door that she had left open, the door to their room, was closed. She held her breath and scanned the area carefully to make sure that nothing else was disturbed. She stood at the top of the stairs, transfixed by that closed door. Walking very slowly and quietly she made her way to the door and listened for any sounds.

"Scratching?" she thought. She didn't have any weapons, anything even remotely lethal. Finally, she tore the door open and rushed in to find John sketching away at his desk. He didn't even flinch.

"John!" she exclaimed, "I thought you were…"

"Another prowler?" he finished. She stood behind his chair and put her hands on his shoulders while he continued sketching. Thrilled beyond words to see him, she kissed the top of his head.

"I just missed you is all" she stammered. Watching him engrossed in his work, she noted to herself that maybe now was not the time to try to draw away his attention. That he would be more grateful if she would just go on with her day.

"I'll bring you some lunch, alright?" she asked. He spoke no reply as she turned to leave. A flash of an impulse and she turned right around and slid up to him and kissed him on the cheek saying "I love you John Kramer" and spun out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. She covered her mouth with her hand as her wyes widened at just how much she surprised herself sometimes.

She returned with a tray, nice tomato bisque and half of a honey turkey sandwich with a homemade brownie. She paused and wondered that if instant still technically meant 'homemade' since it was indeed made IN her home, but quickly shook it off into oblivion. Topping it all off was a mug of hot black tea with sides of milk and sugar. With extreme care and balance, she managed toe door open and rested the tray on an empty space of the desk. John rested his left hand on her right hand as she set it down. She didn't exactly know what to expect from him right now but she was certain enough that he wouldn't hurt her. Looking at their hands, he patted it gently and returned silently to his sketch. She didn't break the spell he cast over the entire room with his energy.

When evening drew to a close he remained at work, furiously sketching and oblivious to everything and everyone. She had fetched his dinner tray and found that he indeed eat, albeit not very much, same as lunch. She sighed and wondered if he was feeling ill once again.

"I can't help it, I worry!" she told herself while she started in on the dishes. "Who wouldn't?"

That night she made one of her famous executive decisions and slept in her room. His light was on long into the dark night and she didn't feel appropriate to sleep in, what was essentially his room. She was dressed in his favorite camisole. It made her feel better about sleeping away from him for the first time while he worked. Snuggling into her bed that he'd gotten specifically for her long ago. This was the first time she ever spent the night in it and it felt enormous without him.

"Girl, he's at least next door tonight, it's not that bad" she told herself.

She didn't know exactly when she had fallen asleep, but she awoke to the shock of feeling John behind her in the bed, his chest against her back, his hot breath on her neck, his hand between her legs massaging her with is fingers, deliberate and hard.

"Mmmm..John..You're here," she mumbled sleepily, sinking back into his chest and searching blindly for his face. All of a sudden he grabbed her, hard. 'John! What's..what are you doing..NO!" she objected. He either didn't hear her or chose not to and roughly entered her while she gasped and shrieked, not so much from the pain but from the shock of his sudden need for her. She struggled against him until he took her face by the chin, which arched her back sharply and brought her to his own.

"Do you trust me?" he hissed.

In a panic she nodded and whimpered, "Yes…yes John, I trust you." Tears ran from her face as she felt him inside of her. She felt like she had lost all control and bent herself over allowing him greater access and let him take all of her. Of course she trusted him and she was starting to moan and breathe energetically as she engulfed him completely. He held her hands behind her and she felt him swell and prepare for climax, she threw her head back and screamed with pleasure into the night. He burst forth inside of her and she felt his familiar burning seed, which she welcomed as the sands welcome rain. His body went limp and she returned to lay parallel to him, feeling the shudder of his body and the sighs of exhaustion escape from him. She settled facing him while he stared at the ceiling on his back. She crawled up onto his chest and waited for him to fall asleep. Replaying the night events again and again, she tried to pinpoint exactly why he had taken her in such a way, knowing that all he had to do is merely ask. He didn't hurt her; secretly she sort of liked it. Her feelings were very confused but one thing remained exactly the same. She whispers "I love you John," realizing that she loved him so much that she would always receive him, anytime.

He woke up in her arms, her hands caressing his hair, She fells him stir and she smiled down upon him. She kissed the top of his head sweetly and lightly stroked his back and took up his right hand and brings it to her lips and kissed the palm of his hand. He touched her face and brings his eyes to look at her. His eyes seemed to look alive again, different than last night. Neither of them brought up the subject of last night's game, there was a hint in the air that they never would.

She slid out from behind him and began to get out of the bed when she felt him take her by the wrist. She began to protest when he began to speak.

"Please, Lauren. Indulge me?" His whisper so warm, inviting… "I'd like to show you something. Something that I've been working on for some time."

She sat back down upon the bed. "What is it John?" she asked with a slight hesitance in her voice. She flashed on those awful drawings she had come upon and hoped that it didn't have anything to do with them.

"It began years ago, when life was.. lets say, leading me in another direction." He paused. "A lifetime ago I suppose. In any case I want you to see it and tell me exactly what you think." She thought for an instant and smiled slowly. He wanted to share something with her, and it made her feel unique to him in his eyes.

"Of course, if that's what you want" she replied sweetly.

"Good, I'm glad" he said. "When do you want to see it?"

"Well," she said "There's no better time like the present, right?" She leaned into him and laughed a little. "You know, you taught me that, right?" He smiled and inhaled deeply, coughing slightly upon his exhale. "Would you like me to brew up a pot of tea?" she exclaimed while she put the back of her hand on his forehead.

"That would be delightful" he responded, clearing his throat. "Then get dressed, we have miles to go."


	19. Secret

Chapter Nineteen

Secret

Lauren put the two bags into the car that John had packed for their excursion to something, she had no idea what, but something that he wanted her opinion on. She didn't dare open the bags for she had learned that in these particular situations that John knew best. Slamming the back door shut, she saw him approach the vehicle.

"I'm sorry Lauren," he said apologetically, "We aren't going to be using your car today."

She scowled.

"But, I've taken care of that," he said raising the garage door to reveal a non-descript brown ragtop convertible. Lauren didn't exactly know what kind of reaction he was looking for, always trying to choose her words carefully, so she just stared at it and waited for him to continue. John walked slowly toward her. She was listening to the fall of his footsteps on the ground, his swagger burned so in her mind that she didn't have to look at him to know how many more steps it would take for him to reach her.

"You don't approve. Your silence speaks volumes," he stated. "I want you to know that there is a very good reason for the choosing of that vehicle and it is all in your best interest." Tossing her the keys, surprising her out of her silence. "You drive".

"Where," she asked. "I don't even know where we are going." He walked past her and turned on his heel.

"Follow the sound of my voice," He opened the driver side door for her and pulled back the ragtop.

It was a beautiful summer day and there was a cool breeze in the air to break up the heat of the day. She started the car as he slid into the passenger seat. Donning his sunglasses he smiled at her, which always made her feel a little dizzy because she cared for him so much. "Just get on the interstate and head north" he directed.

"Funny," she said as she headed down the shortcut streets to the highway that he had told her about long ago. "I head out this way when I leave town to do the shopping." Lauren smiled as they turned onto the on ramp. "Aright," she said. "We're going north!" She turned on the radio of the car and to her delight the radio worked well as opposed to the cosmetic condition of the car. Her hair whipped in the wind flying wildly while she drove and she felt that they were part of the world again, the world that existed beyond the old building that they had been living in, loving in. Her sunglasses kept her from being lashed by her long hair and she couldn't stop smiling and giggling.

Looking over, she noticed that he held a video camera and was filming her as she drove and sang wildly out of key to a song on the radio. Horrified, she stopped and scolded him for taping such a thing.

"No way," he said defending himself from her half-hearted slaps at the camera that was still recording. "You're a star now!" he said laughing. The sun warmed their bodies and the wind rushed over them for miles while they sang along to the radio and letting go of themselves, just for a while.

About an hour and a half later he directed her to take an off ramp and through the streets of the town. Lauren realized just how far away from civilization they were getting and gave him a questioning look and he nodded back letting her know that she was indeed going the right way. Eventually they hit a dirt road and she stomped onto he break. She put the car in park and turned to him.

"Okay, this is where I have to say something. Now I've seen enough horror films, movies-of-the-week, and after-school specials to know for a fact that going into the woods, so far off-track is a MAJOR no-no. I mean the biggest and most wrong things happen to people who go into the woods, most of the time they NEVER GET OUT!" Lauren was admitting to him, albeit in a very theatrical way that she was scared. John looked as though he was trying to wipe a smile from his face.

"Listen to me. I think you watch too much television," he reassured her with a shine in his eyes.

"You're making fun of me, aren't you?" she asked, faking indignation. "Well, we'll see. Just when and not suspecting a thing, BAM! The killer will be right behind me," she trailed off looking over the steering wheel. "With a big ax, maybe a butcher knife..some guy with a thirst for revenge and I'm his target…" she muttered to herself. "I mean if we are the only people for miles, by process of elimination, it's you that's the killer," she joked.

"I'd never allow anything to happen to you, whether I'm in your physical presence or not," he said with a little bit of a rough edge. Lauren didn't notice and was slowing down on the gravel as a looming shadow of a dark house was casting it's shadow on the ground.

"Ah, we're here," he said as she slowed the car to a stop and parked. She was so in awe and overwhelmed with admiration that she had to take off her sunglasses in order to take it all in. He took the keys from the ignition while she was still in a trance. He grabbed the bags and strode over to her side of the car. "Don't you want to know what it's like inside?" he whispered into her ear and shaking the keys gently.

The outside was breathtaking. A two floor house with a pitched roof, and a stone and mortar chimney.

"Wait," she stopped. "Whose place is this? Are we breaking and entering?" she said. "All will be revealed in time," reminded John. "Patience is power." She let him lead her slowly from the car to the screen door just up a small stairway. She stood in front of the large oak door, not being able to see through the window. "Would you like to take a look inside?" he asked her. Lauren took a beat to look around.

"Don't you think that the owner might get just a little pissed off if he found us in his house?" she pondered out loud. John chuckled at her innocence, that endearing quality that he enjoyed tickling once in a while.

"No. We're invited". He replied with a smile.

"Okaaaayyy," said Lauren once again confused by the circumstances that she found herself in. John unlocked the door using three keys to do so and walked through it, bathing her in bright sunlight that shone through the windows. She covered her eyes to keep from going blind and reached out for him inside the house. He took her by the hand and she stepped through the threshold hearing the door shut behind her. Slowly, her eyesight adjusted and she took a good look at her surroundings. She was in the foyer of a massive but elegant home. This was no McMansion, this. She could feel it, as if the house itself had this sort of energy and it vibrated through her, penetrating her to her very soul. She drank it in little by little. First she studied the striking banister with the staircase leading to the second floor. The entire place was made with hardwood floors. She moved forward noticing a doorway that led into a den and another leading into a formal dining room. John was nowhere to be found as she continued to the grand sitting room with gorgeous handpicked, well built furniture. "Guy doesn't shop at IKEA, that's for sure," she thought. Lush braided rugs were lain carefully all over the massive room giving it depth and texture. There were photographs on the walls of nature scenes, landscapes and mountains sprinkled with snow. John appeared and stood close to her. "What do you think of it..so far?" he inquired seriously.

"Well, honestly.." she began slowly. "I think that it's stunning! All of the natural sunlight pouring through the skylights makes everything seem open and innate to the entire house."

John silently walked over to the large floor to ceiling doors that were covered by drapery. He unlatched the doors and brought her over. Standing behind her with the handles to the doors in both hands, he whispered softly to her. "This is my favorite part." And with that said she opened the regal doors and she stepped onto a stunning deck overlooking a cool blue lake that was so large it disappeared on the horizon. The sun was setting on the lake making mirrors of light upon its surface. Overwhelmed by its beauty she walked all the way to the railing and smiled at the entire scene. The lake, the house, the trees, she was surrounded by so much natural beauty that she had almost forgotten that John was behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist and rested them on her stomach.

"I, I have no words to describe this enchanted piece of heaven on earth," she exclaimed. She turned full upon him. "It's a dream!" she exclaimed and rested her head against him. "You live long enough in rooming houses, motels, shelters and mobile homes, sooner or later a place like this seems like a mansion," she sighed. John slightly rocked her in his arms and played with her hair with one hand. After a few moments of silence, broken only by the sound of the small waves of the lake lapping against the shoreline and the waterfowl diving down underwater for their dinner, they separated.

"Can we stay here forever?" Lauren wished out loud and laughed to indicate that she was only teasing.

"Hmmm, would you like to live here Lauren?" John asked in all seriousness. She was totally taken off guard with his question and she stared into his eyes for signs of humor or deception.

"Yeah, John," she answered. "I'd like to live here someday." John sat down upon one of the lounge chairs on the deck and she took the liberty of following him. He pulled her down to sit with him.

"Are you ready?" he asked her. "Are you ready for what I really wanted to share with you?" Laurens heart flipped and she was ready for anything, for now she knew that whenever he asked this question it was serious time and that she should brace herself for anything.

She looked him right in the eye and whispered "Yes." He hesitated for a moment but then she reached over and put her hand on his and said "You can tell me anything." He brought his face close to hers.

"This house, this land, everything within a five mile radius," he paused. "It belongs to me." Lauren balked in confusion. Her mind began flashing again. Back to the place he lived in the city, the cavernous building with it's many doors, it's haunting tunnels and it didn't make sense.

"Why? I don't get it" she thought. "But from day one, none of this has made sense, has it?" she answered herself. He continued on ignoring her facial expressions. "I designed this house from basement to attic. I built most of it as well." Johns voice started to sound as though he was drowning in thought. "Every single piece, right down the linens were chosen with great care. Once." He got that look again where he stared right through her and saw something else in his minds eye. Whatever, wherever he was looking was making him look despondent. She leaned into him and toppled them both back into the lounge chair. Clearing her hair from her face she laughed. "You're like an untapped resource of creativity aren't you?" John was brought back to the present by her voice and blinking away memories he smiled a little. That was good enough for her, for now. "I think this place is as mysterious and charismatic as you are" He seemed to like that comparison and rose from the chair.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "There is plenty here."

"Food? Here? Plenty?" she thought. "In a house that no one lived in?" He was right. He took her into the kitchen, completely outfitted and fully stocked. "How, when did.." she began. "No, no never mind. I don't want to know."

"What?" he asked feigning innocence with that darn half grin of his that drove her wild. "Nothing. If you tell me, it will, well, ruin the magic," she admitted.

"Whatever you say" he replied playfully in a manner that she wasn't that accustomed to. He seemed more at ease, dare she thought having fun. He was pulling the ingredients together for a fantastic meal and she offered to help. "This is your little vacation Lauren. Wouldn't you like to leave the food to me while you go lay out on the deck?" he asked. It didn't even take her an entire second to answer.

"No way, I want to be where the action is," she replied sliding across the floor to him. "I want to help, and, well, be with you," she said shyly. "I sound like a kid wanting to play 'house'," she thought much to her own chagrin.

"Well then, lets get you something to do," he said as he gave her the lettuce and a bowl for the salad. "After that you can cut up the vegetables and mix the dressing with the salad oil. She went to work straightaway and began to rinse the salad fixins, enjoying the time she had with him doing something as normal as prepping dinner with the man she was sickly in love with.

"After all, millions of couples get to do this all the time!" she thought. "I'd give anything for this to be our life forever, but since all good things come to and end, I might as well play 'house' for as long as we're here." She laughed at herself, acting like a child. "Whatever would he think if he knew?" she mused looking over at him unwrapping what looked to her like a couple of choice cuts of red meat and couldn't wipe the silly smile from her face. Her smile fell away to a panic attack and a spinning room. Her heart beat faster and faster as she broke out into a severe cold sweat. She dropped the utensils she was using and sent them crashing onto the floor.

"Dammit!" she thought. "What the…uuhhhh! My head.." She let herself fall onto the floor and tried to crawl out of sight. A pang of nausea hit her so hard she thought she would be sick right on the spot but she struggled against it. She had never felt this kind of ill before and was terrified. Terrified that she was going to ruin the perfect vacation he had planned for her. She looked up to the ceiling, which was tilting this way and that, her vision so blurry that she couldn't see straight no matter how hard she tried. "Hide! You have to hide!" her mind screamed. "You can't stay here!"


	20. Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad

Chapter 20

Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad

Lauren dragged herself to the loo just feet from the kitchen where she fell down. She just made it before she retched uncontrollably into the toiler and hyperventilated, partly from panic, partly from sightedness. She gasped like a fish out of water and tried to silence herself with a towel she dragged down form the rack. Her face on the cold tile floor felt like heaven as she struggled to steady herself mentally and physically.

"I am not well…" she thought. "Holy crap, what am I going to do now?" Sitting up with the wall of the washroom holding her in position she tried to shake away the panic and control her breath.

"Dammit, I sure know how to ruin a good time" she thought as she dragged herself from the floor, flinched away the evidence and looked at herself in the mirror and rolling her eyes. She washed her face and rinsed out her mouth, spitting water into the bowl as if she was spitting at herself for screwing up.

"Seriously Lauren, get your shit together and stop looking guilty! It's not like you barfed on the Mona Lisa!"

She slid quietly back into the kitchen, and resumed fixing salad as if nothing had ever happened. "It never happened" she reminded herself over and over like a chant to keep the bad spirits away. Her head still pounded from the stress but John would be none the wiser she figured. She ran to her purse that she dropped onto the couch and fished out a rogue antacid. Chomping on it she was suddenly taken into an embrace from the back that startled the crap out of her.

"You haven't even tasted it yet." Johns voice shook in her ears.

"Oh, yeah..umm..calcium you know." She winced at this lousy argument but continued trying to save herself. "Women, you know, we, they're, I mean doctors, they're always saying, you know, not enough calcium." She knew she sounded like a fool but she stammered through it and turned around stiffly in his arms, hoping that her face wouldnt' betray her ever present bullshit. "I'm going to go and finish up that salad now…not quite finished." She just couldn't shut up when she lied.

John smiled faintly and unclasped his grip and released her back to the kitchen where she slid quickly. Picking up a giant knife she chopped the head of iceberg lettuce and ultimately quartering them in to more manageable handfuls. She let herself let her frustrations out on the produce while she watched him out of the corner of her eye go back to the deck and grill. Rolling her eyes at her total lack of grace she whispered "Dummy!" to herself with every whack of the knife. Stopping before she liquefied the lettuce, she threw it into a giant salad bowl and casually cut up the rest of the veggies and tried to act a normal as possible. Everything around her was normal, therefore she felt that her behavior should reflect that instead of giving into what she figured was the beginning of a stomach bug.

She felt less green now and began to overcome her queasiness enough to set the table and even tolerated the smoky goodness of the meat being grilled just outside.

They sat down to a lovely little dinner of steak tips, salad, and grilled veggies. The nausea far in the back of her mind, she ate normally and for once in this life, felt like a normal person, in a normal house having a normal dinner. No complications. Yet she couldn't figure out why the whole scene filled her with a sense of dread. Like there was a monster waiting for her in the closet, counting down the minutes until it was time to jump out and surprise her with some disturbing madness.

"You don't look happy" commented John and subtly reminding her that there was nothing that she could hide from him.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm not unhappy" she explained knowing damn well that it was crap. She pursed her lips and decided that it was much better to admit to what's going on in her head. "I guess I just don't understand. This. All of this here." She wrung her napkin on her nervous hands while his eyes fixed upon hers. "Why do we..I mean you, why do you live ina dusty warehouse that makes you cough your brains out instead of staying here where the air is fresh?" She was getting brave. "I haven't even heard you cough once since we've been here" she challenged.

John finished a glass of water slowly and countered. "So you will tell me what in this world is for me and what is not? Every direction must be taken into consideration for me and I must do what is desirable on all paths." He paused in wait for her counter argument but she just looked at him as if he just ate a bug. "So, my inquisitive little detective, what else is creeping around in that head of yours that you want to ask me, hmmm?" She balked. He continued on, gently but with affirmation in his tone. "Perhaps you would like to know about what it was like to have everything in the world in your grasp, every string in your grip and all at once have it ripped from your hand." She dropped her fork onto the table and focused in on his eyes, a trick she had learned from him.

"I don't need you to tell me how badly life can shit all over you and leave you with nothing in your hands. Everybody loses, at least once. People go away, taking great, giant chunks of your soul and leaving you at a loss as to how it ever even happened and makes you crazy with thoughts about how you could have avoided it, but guess what? There ARE no easy answers!" She stopped for air and continued while he was in her rapt attention. "You just put your feet on the damn floor every morning and keep getting up. Every single day, get up and live your life. I learned that the world doesn't stop for a broken hearted girl and that even at the worst of times, you just gotta get the hell out of bed and do what you gotta do, even if it's not necessarily what you want to do. That stupid stinking trailer is ALL I had left of a horrendous marriage that ended in violence, so you know what, go ahead." Her emotion flashed all over her body as she spoke, curling up like a big cat ready to pounce. "Lecture me, oh great one on how anyone could be prepared for the shock of getting the crap kicked out of you one day and leaving you for dead by the side of the road." Her eyes gleamed with tears, determined not to fall. "I once swore that I would never EVER let anyone get close to me again, but here you are. I broke my one and only rule to myself…god!" She turned away from him, unable to meet his stare any longer, shaking with anger and the squalled memories of years gone by with a man she truly came to hate. "You just can't prepare for everything" she said with a warbled voice that was holding back her grief. She heard the sound of his chair sliding away from the table and the falls of his feet once more coming up behind her. His breath nipped upon her neck and it bit her in her heart. It wasn't John's fault of course that these unfortunate things had happened to her. Lashing out at him was decidedly improper and rude, but she was overwhelmed with the pain of those times they fell from her lips like a hurricane, blowing over anyone that happened to be near.

"What do you want me to say, little Lauren? That I am sorry that this happened to you, that all of the pain that you felt and still continue to feel about something and someone over whom you had no control?" he hissed into her year, burning her. "My dear there are reasons why people come into and out of your life, there is a grander purpose to life than a broken marriage and the loss of a life you were so sure that you wanted for yourself." He spun her roughly to meet her crying eyes, nearly tearing the hair from the nape of her neck. She gasped in horror as he had never behaved in such a rough manner to her before. Certainly he wasn't going to harm her, so she hoped.

"There is so much more to do and a very short amount of time in which to do it." He pressed his other hand on her stomach and brought her face to his so that there was no escape. "How have you been feeling lately?" he asked her.

"How did.." she trailed off. Wiping the stubborn tears from her face she wondered how the heck he knew she had a touch of the flu. "I don't know" she said, "I guess I just have a bug or something. It's nothing to worry about." He nodded slowly and reached for a napkin and gave it to her. Her cheeks, flushed with agitation were mopped dry and she opened her mouth to apologize for her outburst when he whispered.

"Not now. You're tired and we've had enough words for today." He let her loose from his grip and gave her the room to walk away. She sunk back into her chair at the table and drank some water out of a trembling glass in her hand. John turned toward the table and excused himself to another room upstairs. She took that as her cue to start cleaning up, the dinner that she wanted to go so well she ruined and was left to clean it up.

She took care of all of the dishes and wiped down the counters. She took her time and made sure that the downstairs was as they found it when they arrived. There was no need to hurry through her tasks, he had made himself clear that he wanted to be left alone. When there was nothing left for her to do, she walked out onto the deck and stared at the lake reflecting the moonlight back upward almost lighting up the trees. It was chilly outside so she grabbed a blanket from one of the lounge chairs and wrapped it around her shoulders. Encased in her blanket cocoon she decided that she didn't feel bad about what she said. He had asked her a perfectly simple question and she answered him. If he didn't like what she had to say than it was his problem. Then she bent over the deck rail and puked into the lake.

"Fabulous," she thought. "I'm just the graceful one tonight."

She coughed the last of it and ambled back inside for a glass of water and a good rinsing of her mouth with a little peroxide for good measure. From the loo door looking out into the expansive house, she sighed. There was nothing left for her to do. Noticing that it was eleven o'clock she wondered if John had gone to bed and wondered if she should stay downstairs as a precaution. "No, no way" she thought. "He brought me here. If he doesn't like it, he can just leave then." She shut off all of the lights save for one so that if she needed to come back down she would at least be able to see where she was going. Her blanket sagging behind her like a sad wedding train, she made her way upstairs slowly. Reaching the top, she surveyed the doors. One she discovered was a linen closet, and there were two perfectly empty rooms with no furniture or decoration. She had two left and with one being the bathroom, the only one left, the one with golden light dripping from the space between the door and the floor. She carefully turned the knob and eased the door open to find John lying in a grand king sized bed with his back to the door and a small lamp left on, presumably for her so that she wouldn't stub her toe. She looked around and saw that the master bedroom was furnished with a couple of dressers, a hope chest and curiously, a vanity with a bench. Everything seemed empty and had that just-from-the-store odor to it. Dropping the blanket, she skinned off her jeans and paused briefly before easing into the bed, leaving a large space in between them. She dared not move from the edge where she lay. Turning the lamp off, she settled into the comfortable bed, snuggling into the sheets and quilts and letting out an audible sigh.

"Comfortable?" John asked as she nearly leapt out of her own skin.

"I thought you were sleeping. I didn't mean to wake you," she said brushing off the tingle of being frightened. He hadn't moved but she could drown in his scent from where she was. Drunk on him, she moved over to be closer to John and he relented to at least lying on his back. She wanted to reach out, to feel him close to her and quench her need to be forgiven. Lying fetal like a child she crept her right hand timidly toward his body and her mind cried out for some sort of accepting demonstration from him, any progression of acknowledgement of her presence. He sighed slowly and turned to face her as her eyes twinkled from the sheen of unfalling tears that she deliberately held back refusing to outwardly give in to her turmoil of hunger for him. Without words, she sank into him naturally and abandoned the notion that she would ever be able to deny him her love and devotion. John pressed her face close to his chest, cradling the back of her head. She suffocated herself in him and felt his acceptance in her heart, the most beautiful silence she had ever experienced. The sound of hearts in silent dialogue, so delicate, so rare and wonderful lulled her to sleep in an insulated and secluded from the world, far from inquisition and confusion.

The unconscious perfection.


	21. Running Up That Hill

Chapter 21

Running Up That Hill

Late morning sun shone through the opened bedroom windows washing everything in natural light while a cool breeze from the lake softly caused the gauzy drapes to dance in a fluid ballet. The tender and quiet solitude of the home welcomed the company of the lives inside of it surrounding and protecting them. The pale violet color of the walls blended in time with the sky blue ceiling expertly designed to recreate the illusion of the sky outside. The shadows crawled up the walls slowly as the sun rose and Lauren was in unconscious dreamland. Out of nowhere, she began to spasm and have trouble breathing.

The chaos shattered the stillness and woke John up immediately. She was moaning as if she were in terrible pain while her eyes remained closed tight. The choking noises erupted from her throat while her body froze and her limbs tried to move as if some invisible force was holding them back. John tried to wake her but she was in such a state he decided he had to hold her in place so she didn't hurt herself. Putting a gentle amount of his own body weight upon her, he attempted to hold her arms in place and protect her head. "Lauren! Lauren, wake UP! Wake up!" he whispered harshly into her ear while she struggled against him. He was about to shout when she suddenly went limp and her eyes opened as she took in a deep breath of air. "Are you alright?" asked John with a touch of worry in his voice and in his eyes upon her. "You're okay, you're awake and you're fine now."

Lauren looked at him as though she could never believe that it could be true, that she was indeed awake and that everything was fine. John held her close. "Did you have a seizure/?" he asked cautiously while she gathered up the strength to talk.

"No" she replied breathlessly. "I'm not sick in the head," she said more to herself than to him. "I had this nightmare," she explained while she shook her head from the cobwebs and John gave her a sip of water. He gathered her up in his arms and caressed her as she described her dream. "It was a confusing patchwork of images, some where I could see from behind my eyes and there were some where I was watching myself as an unseen audience" she stopped short "Does any of this even make any sense?"

"Yes, of course it does" he replied and followed up with a soft kiss on the forehead. "Go on."

"It seemed so real, so palpable that I could taste it" she began. "Yet so unimaginably horrific that I couldn't fully comprehend what I was seeing. You were there, did I say that already? You were there, in a hallway. There were dim light bulbs hanging from a black hallway ceiling. They hung so low that they reached the top of your head and you sort of brushed them away with your forehead. You were holding something that had no form, no real shape, but there you were holding it as if it had." She paused to focus her eyes upon him to see if he was freaking out over the crazy girl in his bed yet. Since it appeared the he hadn't she continued. "It was a mass, a ball maybe. It was brilliant light that lit up the walls around us. I remember looking at your face and you had this look, this serenity that didn't make sense because I guess I figured that holding a ball of light would hurt or something. It was bright white and the light danced in your eyes kind of. You walked toward me with it and I took a few steps and you gave it to me, only I didn't hold out my arms or anything like that. It was as if you were allowing me to take your light away from you, for whatever reason and you placed it inside of me." She paused for a sip of water and to feel his arms around her and his tender touch of her body. "Dreams never have any feeling for me, John. Never ever."

"Shhh now," he sung into her hear fro behind her where she rested her back on his chest. "You really gave me quite a scare my girl. Now, why don't you go ahead and tell me the rest," he coerced. "Please go on with what you were telling me. Something about a light."

"Yes, of course," she went on. "It dissolved into watching myself in a room filled with, with stuff. All of this metal and shiny steel all around moving, and me, twisted up. Sharp and serrated blades and electronic wires, clocks looming large up above me. It like they were all gnashing their teeth at me, angry and they were coming closer and closer, turning in on me." Lauren shivered at the memory so fresh in her mind. John's eyes begged and consoled her while she spoke of the night's horror. "Well, then I screamed and I'm seeing myself from the outside, looking in on what's going on. There was a photo of you and me that I don't even remember having taken at my feet in a frame. I bent down to pick it up and it fell apart in my hands. The glass broke and it all shattered to the floor taking the photo with the shards down to the ground. I looked up and saw myself in this hollow room in the dark. I could hear sound of alarms going off, electronic alarms, the lights came up and there I was, standing in the scene but watching it like it was on television. I was watching myself, watch myself. There were three me's. Me, watching another me, watching the me that was in a hospital room! I was surrounded in the bed by faceless voices talking about my blood pressure and how it was too low, the word surgery echoed all around. I felt all sticky with blood, even just standing there watching it happen to me. I felt the blood, I heard the voices..And the me in the dream watching me in the bed tried to get to her but wouldn't move and the me watching this all happen couldn't move and…' she began to cry uncontrollably, and she hated herself for it, crying like a little kid telling their parents about a bad dream in Johns arms. He held her still while she came back from her emotional memory. "I was screaming 'No! No!' in the dream trying to get, well, myself to stop what was happening and I felt this, this presence that I couldn't see but I could definitely feel and bam. I woke up," she finished, hoping that she may never have that kind of dream again.

"I'm sorry," said John.

"Oh, no, no. I'm okay now. Better actually now that I've talked about it I think," she replied. She blushed a little and realized it would be a foolish thing to say but she said it anyway. "I'm, happy that you were here when I woke up. He very first thing I saw was your face and I felt like I was okay," she confessed. "I don't know how to put it, but whenever I see you, I know that I'm okay." John said nothing but held her and rocked her a little, lulling her into complete peace.

A little while later John lays her back onto the mattress and brushed her bangs back from her eyes.

"Breakfast in bed, m'lady?' A shy smile blossomed on her face and she mockingly stuck her left hand out to be kissed as if she were royalty of some sort, taking on the role of 'lady of the manor' and he took it up and kissed the top before he disappeared down the stairs and into the kitchen. Not long after she could detect the dulcet aroma of coffee brewing and toast being made and settled back in anticipation of her breakfast. Soon enough, memories sparked as he returned with it complete with eggs and tea. She wondered to herself where in the bloody hell her coffee was but didn't want to ruin the moment. 'You took care of me like this once" she said through a smile. "Don't think I'll ever forget that."

He settled the tray onto her lap and gave her a quick smile. "No, I don't think you'll ever forget my dear," he said in an absent minded way that made her wonder where his mind had gone. "I'll be right back," he said to her as he headed back down the stairs avoiding her eyes. She had become used to his somewhat erratic behavior toward her and blew it off has a personality quirk, something that was while curious, didn't affect her anymore. He had embedded himself so deep into her heart that she now let these small eccentricities fall through her and disappear. She listed to his footsteps on the stairs, what was once so frightening had become anticipated now and she curled her legs up to the side and motioned for him to come and sit with her. They shared their meal together and recalled back to when she first came to be in his care.

"You took care of me as well," he said. "Remember when you fell flat on your face over me in the washroom?"

Lauren rolled her eyes. "Oh, how could I forget? I thought that you were a burglar and I was going to blind him with spray starch, not that I think that would stop a burglar, maybe slow him down a little."

"You stitched me up like an expert nurse that night." he interrupted. "You were so brave."

"I know, I kind of can't believe I did it either," she replied remembering how frightened she was to even touch him let alone sew up such an ugly wound. Sipping her tea she vividly remembered just how messy and scary that was. John lifted part of his shirt and revealed the scar he was left with in the mid morning light. Lauren cringed a little when she saw it. "Gosh, I'm sorry that I never really learned to sew" she said sheepishly. "Hey if that ever happens again, I'm throwing you over my shoulder and we're going to the emergency room, got it," she said wielding her butter knife at him playfully.

"Okay, you have a deal," he said. "If I ever return in the middle of the night with a severe wound, we'll do it your way. I don't want to have to dislodge a butter knife from my eye socket."

Leaving the knife on her tray she looked at him for a moment. "John, I'd never hurt you, you know that right?" John noticed she was being completely serious and he put his coffee down. "I mean, well" she hated that she stuttered when he looked at her. "I wouldn't so anything to hurt you is all." She groaned at the fact that she lost the ability to create meaningful sentences when her heart tried to open. It was too new of a thing for her to do and it wasn't so much uncomfortable as it was an unfamiliar new territory for her heart to tread.

"I know what you're trying to say Lauren," he said, trying to make her more comfortable while he watched her trembling lower lip and reached out a thumb to her face to steady it. Dissolving his mouth into a smile he moved her tray form her lap and brought his face close enough to hers that she could smell and be jealous of the coffee on his breath. "I, hope Lauren, I hope that you know that I would never hurt you either, never intentionally go out of my way to bring you harm. I want to keep you safe, safe from all of the violence and tormented, corrupted souls in the world. Keep them from preying upon a life so precious to me that I would die to protect it." He touched her face and caressed her cheek as he spoke. "There is, nothing I wouldn't do to protect you, no lengths I wouldn't go to assure that your life is protected." Lauren was out of her mind speechless. She had heard similar words before in her life. Words that she thought were the gospel truth but never before had she ever believed so completely and she found herself becoming more and more his with every word that dropped from his mouth. Every one she drank in with reverence and gratitude toward John for everything he had given to her. Drunk with passion, she fell forward, lips first onto his face and wrapped her arms and legs around him kissing him softly but with intensity and sentiment. He reciprocated in kind and they spent the next few hours rolling around the bed, exploring flesh in the summer sunshine and discovering one another delicately and lovingly.

Late afternoon came around and John cupped her face. "Dear heart, it's time to go home," he told her gingerly.

"I know John," she replied. "It's alright, wherever you are is my home. I love you." He kissed her.

"I love you back," he said while he helped her out of bed and she set to making it. He questioned her with a look and she replied. "Somehow I wouldn't feel right just leaving it. We're not in a hotel." He nodded and went downstairs. She heard the sound of the front door opening and closing a few times while she straightened up and figured he was packing the car. She came downstairs and she made sure that the kitchen was all set and that everything was as it was when they arrived. She stood over the sink and looked into the woods wondering if they would ever return, but not overly concerned if she ever did or not. She meant it when she said that wherever John was, was indeed her home and nothing would ever change how she felt about that.


	22. Fix You

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fix You

Lauren slid the laundry basket along the steel table toward the washing machine to start her chore. Inspecting the contents of mostly towels and assorted t-shirts of hers, she felt something, hard and cold. She pulled it up out of the basket and found a silver tape recorder in her hand. She discreetly examined it and felt the buttons underneath her fingers and clicked it open to find a tiny cassette inside, no label, no indications whatsoever about what it was for. She slipped the cassette back into its proper place and wondered what she was supposed to do with such a thing. Dissention raged in her heart and mind about what to do with the item when she suddenly heard heavy footfalls out in the hallway and she tucked it into her big purse and flung it at her bedroom door with a thud. Water rushed through the pipes into the washing machine and she turned back to her work, adding detergent and gathering clothes to load into it as the door opened revealing a not so well looking John. Lauren was taken aback at the sight of him pale, weak and fragile looking when just yesterday they were in the country together and he was so vibrant and well.

"You don't look so hot," she said trying not to be offending in any way.

"I don't feel so hot kid," he replied quietly and slumping in the doorframe a little. Lauren abandoned the laundry and went straight to him and put his weight on her to steady his balance. "Here now, let me take you to bed," she barely said before he began coughing violently. She could not hold up all of his weight alone, so she guided him to the floor. His breath had been stolen from him and his frantic gasping for air frightened the hell out of her. Her heart beat faster with every torturous second that went by. She couldn't tell who was holding onto who tighter as if the other person was some sort of anchor. "You're gong to be okay John," she fibbed because she really wasn't sure that he would pull out of this episode. Finally after an agonizing five minutes had passed he began to get a hold of his breath once again and he lay limp in her arms relishing the air in his lungs and he started to look a little more alive. Burying her face into him she whispered "I'll never let you go. Never ever."

Lauren realized that a cold floor is no place for a sick man and got up to get the office chair because she figured that it would be the only reasonable way to move him into the warmth of a bed. John was conscious and he acknowledged her leaving and with her help got into the chair so that she could push him into his office space/bedroom. He coughed a little and put a hand up.

"No, you're room please." Since this wasn't the first strange request that he had ever made of her she kicked open her door and at the same time slid her purse into the room against the bedside table and positioned him next to her lush full sized bed. Yanking down the covers of the bed she watched him sit idle and unmoving in the chair from the corner of her eye. He looked like a hollow projection of himself sitting there, almost lifeless in her eyes. When the bed was ready for occupancy she knelt before him so that he could see her face and she rested her hands and forearms on his legs.

"It's time to get up now, to get into bed." He raised his head only slightly in agreement and she put his arms around her neck and told him to hang onto her. She got him into bed, albeit not as gracefully as she had hoped and she prayed that John would forgive her that fact. "Can I get you anything?" she asked unsure if there was anything in the world he could possibly want.

"Yes," he answered with a gravely voice. "A glass of water please." "Certainly" she responded and hurried to get to the kitchen. "Wait," he commanded while loosely gripping her arm. "We're going to have a serious talk when you return. It's time." Lauren thought she detected a bit of sorrow in his demeanor but she shrugged it off as part of feeling like hell.

"Okay John. If you are up to it of course," she nodded. He let go of her and she left the room and walked a lot slower than she intended to into the kitchen. Her mind was blank, everything that had already happened had frazzled her and she was unsure if she was ready for more drama. She brought him a glass of ice and a full bottle of water so that he had an ample supply and she walked back hesitantly. She paused just before the doorway and took a breath to steady herself and walked in. She busied herself moving a small table next to the bed to rest the glass upon and cracked open the bottle of water and let it flow over the ice cubes. She fetched a pink bendy straw from out of the bedside drawer. "I apologize for the straw," she started. "I bought like 500 of them on sale…"

"Thank you," he interrupted. "Thank you for the water." She assumed that now was the point in their conversation when he wanted her to be quiet and listen. She half sat on the bed and he was sitting up against a wall of pillows. "Please, sit here," he said as he tapped the mattress lightly with his hand and she obeyed even though she was chewing her lower lip nervously. She could hardly look him in the eye once she settled. She felt as if all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and she prepared herself mentally as best as she could for what he was going to say to her, and she knew in her heart before he even spoke that it was going to be at the very least unpleasant. Her breath shortened and she braced herself and waited for his words to fall. John put his hand on her arm and could feel her trembling ever so slightly even though she tried with everything she had not to let on that she was somewhat distressed at the prospect of what he had to say. He knew that it would be hard for her to hear, but it was necessary now.

"Don't be afraid Lauren, there is nothing to fear from what I am about to say and I know that you are able to hear now certain truths that have been deliberately hidden from you about my, illness."

"Illness.." she repeated as if it were a foreign word she had never heard before.

"Yes," he sighed and at once gripped her arm a little harder now. "I have an inoperable brain tumor. It was detected some time ago." He paused to gauge her reaction and she remained frozen in place waiting for him to finish. She was resolved to give no visible signs of her emotions until he was completely finish with what he had to tell her. "Do you know what this means?" he asked almost verbally wondering what was going on behind her eyes.

"Yes," she replied in a monotone voice. "It means that you are going to die." John was a little taken aback by her reaction and continued.

"Yes. I am in fact going to die…sometime in the not too distant future." His voice was almost a whisper now and she remained unmoved while she watched the conflict in his eyes. "I'm not saying this to you to upset you, please understand this. I have to go through chemotherapy and radiation, in fact I've already begun. That's why I'm so ill now you see."

"Yes," she nodded. "I understand." She was trying so hard to be brave now behind her mask of indifference. She let out a slow breath and refocused her eyes upon his so that she could show him her silent torment raging within her. "I'm going to lose you. I was always going to lose you, wasn't I?" Her words seemed to sting him a bit.

"Yes. You are," he said a little too matter of factly for her liking. "We have today. We have right now, even if I'm not feeling a hundred percent," he said as he moved to take up her hand in his and hold it close. "I have a feeling that there is more to what you are feeling right now than what you are sharing and that's fine. However, please don't hold back for my sake. I want to know what you're thinking, no matter what it is. Do you trust me?" That old familiar phrase danced around bringing to her mind memories of her time with him and with that the tears that she arrested behind her eyes fell onto their clasped hands and she was unable to speak even though she had so much to say, so many things that she wanted to let fly at him about how she felt about their relationship and how thankful she was that he had come into her life but the words wouldn't come, only the tears. He put his other arm around her and he gently guided her into an embrace and he let her cry on his chest while she got out her sadness. Now was not the time for him to tell her how to feel. They sat silently with the only sounds audible were her quiet sobbing over a love that she would soon lose to an unfair and uncaring disease that didn't give a damn about anyone, least of all what she considered a perfect love. When she had quieted down and she felt less furious about the situation she found herself tangled in, her mind slowly came back to life as her heart now accepted their fate.

"I'm so sorry," she said even though she felt it was a quite inadequate phrase for how she truly felt. "Is there anything I can do for you, anything at all?" A smile of sorts crept across Johns lips, pleased that she had not reacted so violently to the news as she would have in the past and willing to help him through what they both knew was to be an agonizing period in their affair.

"I'm sure there will be adequate opportunity for that soon enough," he replied. "I know it seems unbearable now, my eventual departure from this world, but you see," he paused and brought her hand to his lips. "This, right here. This will last long after I am gone, for you will live on and through you…through you I will live on." She managed to crack a smile at the tenderness of the moment and she felt a little better now. "I'll take care of you as long as you'll let me."

"I know you will," he replied. "I always knew, for you've been such an indulgent caregiver in the past."

"I only take care of people I love," she stated boldly with a wry smile.

"Then I consider myself to be very lucky indeed," he acknowledged and caressed her hair. "I love you very much my dearest."

It did her heart good to hear it cascade from his lips and crash right into her heart.

"Are you sure there is nothing I can do for you?" she asked once more wanted nothing more than to make him as comfortable as possible.

"Well," he began "If you were feeling up to it, you could go to the drugstore. You know, the one that's near the hardware store. I called in an order along with my prescriptions this morning. If you wouldn't mind…"

"No problem!" she cut in. At this point some fresh air to clear her mind wouldn't be the worst thing. "I'd be glad to," she said as she grabbed her big purse up from the floor while the cassette player tumbled to the floor. She had totally forgotten about it since the news of John impending death took precedence. "Oh, right," she exclaimed as she retrieved it. "I found this in the laundry," she said holding the little machine to him and he was prepping himself for a much needed nap. He took it from her and turned it over and over in his hands carefully. "In the laundry you say," he said almost to himself.

"Well, yeah," she said slowly. "I figured it wasn't mine so it must belong to you."

"Yes, yes it does. Did you…play it?" he asked with the slightest of hesitation in his voice.

"No," she replied. "It wasn't mine."

"Oh, well then, thank you for returning it," he said. "I probably would have missed it sooner or later," he mused.

"Well then," she started out the door.

"There's a list on my desk, if you don't mind…" said John.

"Okay," she said in an agreeable yet somewhat distant tone.

"Wait," he said. "Before you leave," he held out his right arm toward her. She went over to him and allowed him to feel her face. "A proper goodbye, if you would so indulge me."

She knew in her heart that there was no way that she would deny him or herself the fleeting moments of physical contact now. They exchanged an embrace that told one another more than words could ever say.

"Rest well and I'll be back before you know it," she whispered and kissed his cheek. He was already half asleep before she closed the door and started toward Minnie.

"Hell of a day," she thoughtfully contemplated. "Everything's changing."

She took off her shoes as she got into her vehicle. Her shoes were pinching her feet, denoting that curse of all cursed that befell women all over the world. "This thirty five years of monthly inconvenience is getting old," she thought. "Even my clothes hurt."

She thought herself lucky to be off to a drugstore at that moment and sped off into the evening night, counting her blessings that when she returned, someone would be glad to see her.


	23. I'll Stand By You

Chapter 23

I'll Stand By You

Roaming up and down the aisles of the drugstore, she noticed the faces of the shoppers going about their days, unaware of her presence or that of anyone elses. Zombies trolling with thier carts or walking witht hier shopping baskets full of shampoo that will keep your colored hair from splitting, anti-aging serums that promise to make 40 look like 20 if you apply nightly, perfumes to entice one to cover their natural scent by promising to attract the man/woman of their dreams when it does the exact opposite. Lauren rolled her eyes at the "sheeple" around her that didn't seem to notice that they were even alive let alone shopping in public. She stopped off at the pharmacy to get his medications and to sign for them that she denied a pharmacist consultation about the medicine, per Johns orders. Trailing slowly to the feminine product aisle she tossed a box of sanitary napkins and Midol into the basket for this month seemed to be expecially excrutiating. She noticed a woman, considerably younger than herself tearfully remove a home pregnancy test from the shelf and her heart immediately noticed an unplanned pregnancy on another females face. She felt bad for the girl who hurried to the checkout, presumably to get this miserable moment of uncertaintly over with. Lauren looked down at the floor and wondered to herself if she herself could possibly be pregnant. Then she laughed so hard she nearly fell down.

"Imagine that! she thought to herlsef whyle she laughed into her hand that ocvered her mouth. "I'm in my mid 30's for chrissakes and he's like what, sixty-something? Right. That'll happen."

Recovering from her momentary inner comedy she comically tossed five different ones into her basket just to watch the look on the clerks face when she showed up with no less than five different home pregnancy tests. Maybe he wouldn't look so snidely upon her as he did the poor girl who was almost in tears as she made her purchace of one before her. If he did, she'd knock his lights out. Lauren watched and enjoied his expressions as she scaned first the sanitary products, the the five pregnancy tests. He was totally confused as to the nature of her purchace and it amused the hell out of her. Paying him with a satisfied grin on her face she proudly walked out, confident that she messed his head up fair enough and got into Minnie. Before she could even begin to back out of her parking spot she had to get her giggles out and prop her head upon the steering wheel and laugh her brains out at her bold defiance of male ignorance. She got her head together and drove off for home once she was confidant enough that she wouldnt slam into a telephone poll from laughing too hard.

Pulling into her parking spot and locking up, she took a few steps and felt dizzy. Kneeling one leg to the warehouse floor she fought to get her bearings again, telling herself over and over agin in her mind that she was totally fine and that there was nothing wrong and to get up. A few escaped moans of uncomfortableness made it past her clenched teeth and echoed through the space. She took a few deep breaths and things began to stop spinning and she thankfully gathered up her bundles and headed on up to her bedroom where she found a fast asleep John. She gently pressed the back of her hand on his forehead and he seemed cool enough to touch where he didnt need to be awakeded for any fever reducing medicine. She stuffed the pregnancy tests into her bookshelf behind and old copy of Moll Flanders and went about picking up around the place so that John wouldn't fall over anyuthing, like she had once. As miserable as that night of improper home surgery was and as scared to death as she was that she was going to kill John, it would always be remembered with a laugh over the fact that she fell over him face first with a can of spray starch as the only weapon she had over the previously thought burgaler that she figured had made his way in.

" Funny how one small thing can change your entire perspective on a situation". she thought.

After her long drive went to the kitchen for some relaxing tea and noticed that most of her herbal tea had gone missing. The scowled and tried to think back to the last time she saw them all together.

"Tea doesn't just grow legs and run away, although I've come to expect all matter of things around here." she mused.

She settled on the lemon but still tried find where she may have put them, checking every cabinet and under everything in the kitchen. the kettle steamed to a boil and she made up her lemon tea and went back into her room where she thought that maybe she had put them, for whatever reason. She looked over to her bed and John was gone. He had aparrantly seen fit enought to ger out of bed, but she didn't see him anywhere. She abandoned her tea upon the nightstand and went to the hallway.

"John?" she called out. "You okay?"

There was chillingly no answer. She saw the light spilling out of the bathroom and preparing herself for the worst she ran toward it. There he was standing silently and unmoving from his gaze into the mirror over the sink. Next to him was a tray of barber instrunemts. A pair of scissors, hair clipperrs, a razor and a towel. She stood where she knew she could be seen in the mirror by him but he remained still. Her gaze travelled to the sick where she saw a few errant bits of his hair decorating the sink and she put it all together. The illness, the treatment, he was losing his hair and he was going to at least remain in control of that by removing it all himself before modern medeicine had the chance to rob him of yet another thing. She eased her way across the room and put her hands on his shoulders and her head on her right hand. "Allow me?" she offered and he still, remained unmoved, except for his eyes. He looked at her in the mirror and they said it all.

She fetched a stool from his room and sat him down. As gently and a breeze, she put the towel around his neck and began gently combing his hair with the touch of a dove. She now saw what he did, great bits of hair falling to the ground, brittle and split by the medicine meant to keep him alive. His body was now betraying him and he had absolutely no control and that made him angry. She felt that by now she could tell his moods, and this one may have looked like sadness, but it wasn't. It was silent anger.

"I'll be gentle," she whispered, "I promise. Do you trust me?"

He looked at her for the first time in ten minutes and nodded slightly and caught her eyes in his. It was as if there were some sort of telepathic conversation between the both of them. He had an unbearable need to be helped by someone who knew how and that she understood that the only person on earth that could help him was her. She knelt on the floor between his knees and looked up at him, for she knew that he preferred her to be submissive at times. For a long time they looked inside their hearts and souls and understood one another on a deeper level than they had before. Two souls meeting for the first time, hers there to comfort him at his weakest and his to allow her to help.

She rose and stepped behind him and picked up the sissors. Calmly she began to cut away at the hair that was left. It fell thorugh her fingers like soft petals and drifted errantly to the floor like feathers. She used a thin comb and her fingers to guide herself over his scalp while the rest of his hair tumbled through the air while taking great care as for his eyes not to see the remains of it falling away. She quietly put the sissors back on the tray indicating to John that that phase was over and it was time to commence the next. A knot formed in her stomache as she picked up the hair clippers and switched them on to test them before she put them to his scalp. She noticed that he was not tense for his shoulders were relaxed and that his breathing was even, like he had resigned to what was happening to him and that to fight it would be a waste of his energy. It was not the same for Lauren as she was taking deep breaths to stay calm for him and not let on that she felt for him in this no win situation. She first felt the clippers in her palm to be sure that they were not hot and slowly but deliberately she started at the nape of his neck and clipped away the remaining hair that was left. With long strokes followed by the caress of her free hand the rest of the small hairs fell from his head. She gracefrully moved his head in the angles that which accomidated the best paths for the electric clippers and when she was finished she faced full upon him and dusted the remains from his shoulders. His eyes were glassy and distant, much like her own when she has succumbed to having her hair combed when she first arrived. In this unseeming role reversal she bent at the knees, reached up and touched his unshaven face. With a mothers care she whispered

"How would you like a proper shave? One for your face and one for your head so that you match?" She brought her face close to his and put her cheek against his lips in a bold fashion that she never would have dreamed of not too long ago. She felt that he needed her in this moment of great change and was bound and determined to be there every step of the way. She felt his breath on her cheek ehisper inaudiably,

"Yes," and so she caressed his face for a moment and arose to make up some steaming hot towels. She returned and prepared him.

"Let me know if this is way too hot for you, alright?" He nodded slightly and she began to cover his face and head with pore cleansing steam heat while she got the lather and the straight razor ready. It reminded her od when she was youg and she would wathc her mother giver her father a hot lather shave every Sunday.

"There's nothing like a hot shave with a straight razor!" he used to say. If it was good enough for her Pa, then it certainly was good enough for the only other man that she loved in this lifetime. She unwrapped his head and sharpened the blade while the lather had time to soften the roots of the hair. He had his eyes closed and no tension was visible upon him as he waited for her to begin. She stated with his head and again, gently guided his head in every direction as not no nick him and he allowed her. After she was finished with his head, he tilted his head back indicating that he was ready for her to shave his face. She could see the pulse in his neck throbbing away under the lather upon his skin and she resolved not to be nervous lest her hand jump and she badly wounded him. She began on his neck and found that it was quite easy to shave a mans face, just has her mother had done. She followed the pattern with the razor that her mother had for weeks upon end and finished with not even the smallest of cuts. She finished my cleaning the errant cream from his head and mositurising his scalp.

John opened his eyes as if he was having a nap and felt his hairless face and head.

"Wait a moment, what's this?" he exclaimed as he felt his chin and noticed that she must have missed a spot."

"Oh, that?" she said "Take a look in the mirror." He stood up slowly while Lauren buzied herself cleaning the instruments. There was a the smallest but of hair left on his chin, bright white and just enough to make him look like the man that he was and not some spoiled teenager.

"You approve?" she asked while replacing the tools. "I though that it makes the entire look. If you hate it I can sure get rid of it in a snap..."

"No," he interrupted her. Turning to her he lightened in gaze. "It looks, good". Laurens heart stopped trying to beat it's way out of her chest. She wanted to go to him, to throw her arms around him and tell him that she would always be there for him until his dying day, but that's not what he needed. No, he needed someone to be strong, someone he could count on in this most difficult of situations. Her resolve made her strong even when she felt that she could not be, she would be whatever and whomever her needed her to be. When she was done cleaning up and he was finished inspecting every pore of his new look, she strode over to him and for the very first time, they looked into one anothers eyes and had no expectations. No errands to run, no laundry to sort, the towels could wait, and nowhere for either of them to go. He took his hand and put it upon the small of her back and guided her to her bedroom and sat her down upon the bed.

"You have been a wonderful little stylist today but I must warn you. Unimiginable surprises are not too far off in the future. Our lives will change in ways that even fiction could not dictate. but change lives that we are not even aware exist."

"I'm not entirely sure that I follow," she replied slowly.

"Humanity my dear Lauren, does not distingush between that which is truly good and that wish is truly evil. There will come a time when both of us must make a choice. And that choice may not be a bloack and white as you think." he replied.

Lauren put on her bravest face for him.

"I'm not going anywhere." she said resolutely while she looked into his eyes for even the smallest hint of regret.

"No child, I didn't think that you would," he replied lying back onto the pillows, feeling the pillowcases for the first time with his new scalp. She snuck in and hugged his arm obiediently wondering where this was going to take them.


End file.
